


(Mis)Trust in Me

by MoonwalkingCrab



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Developing Relationship, Essek Has Chronic Pain, First Kiss, Idiot Wizards, M/M, Making Out, Night Terrors, Rimming, Switching, they just don't know it yet, they're totally in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonwalkingCrab/pseuds/MoonwalkingCrab
Summary: Caleb is torn. He has been trained to get what he wants from people, and so often he has. But something feels different this time.Now he is hesitant to trust his own impulses. Is it really just his training kicking in, or does he simply want to spend time with Essek for no ulterior reason?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: How Can it be Manipulation When I Just Want to Hold Your Hand?

Guilt is something that Caleb is intimately acquainted with, an inextricable part of himself that feels tied to his very veins. He should be used to it by now. Why then, when Essek tugs his arm from Caleb's grip, does the burn feel so much hotter? 

There is a tightness to his features that speaks of so much more than simple irritation with the Nein and Caleb feels his stomach twist. He may have gone too far. 

Manipulation, much as Caleb hates to admit it, has been ingrained in him, as easy to pull forth as flames. He draws his outstretched hand back, pressing his lips tight together as Essek takes his leave. 

And then there is no time to think, no time to dwell on the flash of regret. There are plans to be made, plots to foil and a friend to save.

* * *

It is with a groan of frustration that they arrive back at the Lucid Bastion. Beau's anger is palpable, her fists clenched and jaw set, her entire body shaking with anger. Caleb can feel it, and despite Caduceus' attempts to placate them all, he can't help but agree: this mission was a disaster. 

The guards usher them out wordlessly and as they leave, Caleb catches a glimpse of a familiar mantle flickering out of sight in the corner of his eye. The stomach clench of guilt wracks through him again and Caleb frowns, confused. After everything he has done, _this_ is the thing his mind chooses to focus on. He glances back over his shoulder, pressing his lips tight as he makes a snap decision. 

"You all go on ahead," he says to Nott, "I will catch up soon, there is just one thing I need to do here."

She raises her eyebrows but doesn't question him. Caleb can see her flask clutched tight in one hand, and despite the slight pang of disappointment in his chest, he can't really blame her: this was always going to be a loss. At least they all made it out alive.

“Do you want me to come with you, Caleb?” Jester asks, hanging back. Her eyes are lined and tired, though her voice remains as bright as ever. Caleb gives a thin smile and shakes his head.

“No, just go ahead. I want to check in with Essek.” Caleb breathes in a sigh. “I am hoping we haven’t used up all his goodwill towards us.”

“Ohh, that’s a good idea, he seemed _super_ grumpy before.” Jester nods, gaze darting towards the rest of the group. “If you want, I can send him a message tomorrow to say thank you and stuff.”

Caleb frowns, holding out a hand in abeyance. “Maybe hold off on the messages for now, _ja_? Give him some time to cool off. I will talk to him.”

Jester’s eyes seem to gleam for the briefest of moments before she nods, turning away. “Okay. See you at the house, Caleb. Tell Essek we said hello, and thank you, and that his flying thing was really cool, okay?”

Caleb’s lips are pressed in a thin line as he forces an attempt at a smile. “Okay,” he says.

Waiting for a few moments, Caleb watches his friends slip away before turning for the corridor that he's certain Essek has just disappeared down. One of the guards watches him, tracking his every movement, still wary despite the number of times they have passed through. Caleb gives her a nod, closer to a bow. "I'm sorry to intrude a little longer, but would it be possible to speak to the Shadowhand for a moment?” 

The guard purses her lips, shifting on the balls of her feet. "The Shadowhand has not long returned and has asked not to be disturbed."

Caleb nods, he expected as much, that doesn't stop the twinge of disappointment. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to make things right with Essek. He runs his fingers over the symbol of the Bright Queen, noting the way the guard's silver eyes flick down to follow the movement. He schools his face into a passive smile. 

"Of course, and I don't want to impose, but if I could just have a brief word. It is an important matter."

The guard's resolve seems to waver and she glances around, nodding to one of the other guards. "Okay," she says, "I will ask if he will see you." Her fellow guard ambles over and she turns to him. "Arroz, can you inform Shadowhand Essek that a representative of the Mighty Nein is here and wishes to speak to him."

Caleb holds up his hand. "Not the Mighty Nein, you don't need to mention them." He swallows, running his fingers over the embroidered hem of his coat. "Just tell him it's Caleb." Whether that will make things easier or not, he doesn't know. Perhaps Essek is as frustrated with Caleb himself as he is with the rest of the Nein. 

If Arroz finds the request odd, he gives no sign of it, giving the guard with Caleb a brief salute and disappearing into the lamp-lined corridors. The other guard sighs, shifting her grip on her shortsword, though her posture is a little more relaxed now. She won't make small-talk, Caleb can tell and he breathes a small sigh of relief as well. There is a tightness to his stomach, a sense of nervous anticipation that has Caleb's fingers twitching. He shoves his hair from his face, working through a few of the knots, purely to have something to do with his hands.

Time seems to have slowed, stretching out as Caleb waits, and he idly considers that Essek is toying with him. Time _is_ his specialty after all. However, after a few more minutes, Arroz returns, gesturing for Caleb to follow.

"He will see you for a few minutes only."

"That is more than enough, thank you." 

He is led to an intricately carved door of deep purple wood somewhere on the northern side of the Lucid Bastion. The guard gives one sharp rap and steps aside, the door swinging open just a moment later. Another prickle of nerves dances across Caleb's skin as he steps over the threshold, the door clicking shut being him. 

The room is simple, the furniture elegant, though Caleb doesn't really focus on the details. He can see Essek seated at a large desk, a number of papers rolling up with a wave of his hand to float onto the shelves behind him. 

"Um, _hallo_," Caleb says, walking a little closer and gesturing towards the chair that sits opposite Essek. "May I?” 

Essek dips his head in a brief nod and Caleb drops into the stiff-backed chair, taking the opportunity to get a closer look at Essek, hoping to discern his mood. 

The usual air of mild amusement is gone and Caleb can see a few faint lines, spiderweb fine, etched into the softer skin around Essek’s eyes. There is an air of tiredness around him, one which Caleb can wholly understand, though is voice is as steady as ever.

“So? I did not expect to be seeing you again so soon.” Essek’s lips are pressed in a tight line and Caleb swallows, meeting his gaze.

"It, ah, it did not go well in the Lotusden, they got away." Caleb's fists are clenched tight on his lap, the roil of anger and disappointment churning in his stomach. "We failed."

There is a momentary flicker of annoyance across Essek's face before he breathes deep, straightening in his chair, his fingertips pressed together on the table in front of him. "I see, and what does that mean for us overall?” 

“It means our enemies have another ally, or at least the parts to resurrect them. Your people may know a little more about this one; Jourrael, an assassin of the Spider Queen?” 

Essek's fingers twitch for the barest of moments, his eyes narrowing. "Very well," he says, "I shall inform our people." His gaze rests on Caleb's face, the pale yellow of his eyes dimmer than usual, tired. It is hard to tell beneath the elaborate mantle, but Caleb could swear his shoulders are drooping, too. "Is that all?” 

“I…I also wanted to speak to you as well." Caleb places his hands on the table, torn between the thought of reaching out to Essek or simply leaving him be. Will he think Caleb is trying to manipulate him if he reaches out once more, or will he maybe appreciate the touch, now that the rest of the Mighty Nein aren't around? 

The decision is made for Caleb. Essek pulls his hands back from the table, drawing them back beneath the folds of his robe. He meets Caleb's gaze, one eyebrow arched. 

"You are speaking to me now," he says, the faintest of smiles playing across his lips. "I hope you and your friends aren't expecting me to take you anywhere. As I explained earlier, even _I_ have my limits." The smile seems to falter at that and Caleb catches another glimpse of the tiredness in Essek's eyes. 

"Nothing like that," Caleb says with a shake of his head. "I actually came here to thank you, and to apologise for their— _Our_ behaviour." He leans a little closer, trying to project his sincerity. “I also wanted to check on _you_, as your friend. I know it can’t be easy dealing with us as well as everything else on your plate.” He chances a small smile, a burst of triumph flaring inside him as Essek responds in kind.

“Well thank you,” he says, expression softening. “I am _very_ busy, it’s true.” He breathes deep, almost a sigh, and glances towards one of the stacks of papers that sit on the edge of the desk. “I really should get back to work now, in fact.” One hand emerges from Essek’s robes again, stretching out to levitate the papers towards him. “But I _do_ appreciate you coming here.”

“Of course,” Caleb says. “Thank you for your time, and for everything you have done for us today.” He brushes his hair behind his ears. “I’m not sure if there is any other way I can express my gratitude.”

One pale eyebrow raises and Essek gives a sardonic smile, not lifting his gaze from the papers in front of him. “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” he says.

Caleb can feel a bloom of heat twinging his cheeks at the words, a stark reminder that they are both playing the same game. The guilt he feels is completely unfounded. Though, the more he thinks about it, the less he wants to play. It is an uncomfortable reminder of who he used to be, what he was moulded to be. The chair scrapes across the ground as he stands to leave, making Essek glance up. "Until next time, then. Take care, Essek."

There is a moment where their eyes meet and Caleb feels his stomach swoop, Essek's face is open, a hint of surprise in the arch of his eyebrows, as if the platitude is wholly unexpected. He straightens up, nodding as Caleb turns for the door. 

"You, too, Caleb."

* * *

The door clicks shut and Essek presses his palm to his face. _"I'm sure I can think of something"_ Why did he say that? 

Flirting has always come as second nature to Essek, but something about Caleb makes it different. He runs his fingers over his forearm, frowning. He is almost certain the soft touch to his arm in the Lotusden was a ploy to get the second Teleport, but a traitorous part of him wants to believe it wasn't. Maybe Caleb just wanted to reach out? 

Essek groans. He is going to get himself into so much trouble and has no one to blame but himself. He breathes in a deep sigh, swallowing against the sickening ache that snakes around his spine. Today has been a bad day, a very bad day if Caleb's report is anything to go by. He makes a note to inform the researchers in the Marble Tomes of this new development. The name Jourrael tugs at a memory within him—a childhood tale perhaps—though he cannot remember the details. 

Wincing against the pain that flares in his knees, Essek shifts, reaching for another stack of reports. Caleb's visit has been a distraction, he knows it. A faint warmth curls in his stomach and he smiles for a moment before mentally shaking himself. This won't do at all. Caleb was Scourger trained. No doubt part of that training involved knowing how to work those far too pretty blue eyes to his advantage. 

Essek's fist clenches on the table in front of him; he really should know better than this. Fascination with the human and his magical capabilities has morphed into something else entirely, and it both thrills and terrifies him. He bows his head back to his work; he isn't going to let it distract him. He doesn't need to think about scuffed knuckles dragging through bright, silky hair, or the way Caleb's tongue slips out to wet his lips when he's thinking about what to say.

Essek drums his fingers on the table, glancing around, though he knows he won't be disturbed. 

Okay, he will allow himself five more minutes, then he really needs to get back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

It is a few more days before Caleb catches a glimpse of Essek again. Much to his gratitude, Jester has kept her promise and refrained from sending messages that might further hamper whatever goodwill he still has towards them. 

The group has been called to the Lucid Bastion, it seems the researchers in the Marble Tomes have uncovered some good news: a further ritual that is needed before Jourrael can be fully resurrected, which cannot be completed until the next new moon. They still have a chance. They still have time. 

"We have found stories that hint to the location where Jourrael was first brought under the power of the spider queen and allude to the nature of the sacrifices that were needed to bring them to power." The archivist wrinkles his nose, violet eyes darting back and forth as he skims over the blotched scroll in his hands before rolling it shut. He turns to the Nein. "Thanks, in no small part, to Shadowhand Essek, we believe we may have been able to pinpoint the location of the temple itself."

Essek, seated to one side of the dais, gives a brief nod and Caleb feels a flutter in his stomach. It is hard to tell from the distance, but he looks a little less terse than the last time they spoke. A small smile curls unbidden up Caleb’s lips, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. Beau’s elbow jabs into his ribs as she whispers to him, “You okay? Your face looks weird."

"_Ja_, fine, I'm fine," Caleb hisses back. "We have another chance to take down Obann," he meets Beau's eyes, "get Yasha back. I'm glad."

"Yeah." Beau nods, grim determination in her eyes. "We'll be ready this time."

On the dais, the archivist is finishing up, glancing over the Nein with vague apprehension. "All the information we have gathered is at your disposal, as will be anything else we uncover in the meantime. We have two weeks until the ritual can take place."

"Then we will make our plans as soon as possible, " Fjord says. "Thank you for your assistance, I am sure we can use this information to our advantage." He gives a courteous nod before turning to the rest of the group. "Okay, we need to make an actual plan this time, any ideas?” 

“If I may be so bold, I have a suggestion." Essek's voice sounds behind Caleb's shoulder and he starts. He hadn't even realised Essek had moved from his chair. 

"Essek! Hey," Beau gives a brittle smile that quickly falters, "you're not still pissed at us, are you?” 

Essek simply smiles mildly, looking the group over with an air of nonchalance before turning back to Beau. "What do you think?” he says. His expression gives nothing away. 

Beau's brows crease in annoyance, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. "You really wanna know? What I think is—" 

"I think you did a lot of work at the library so you could help us," Jester interrupts, "because you're super good friends with us." She smiles brightly. "You look _really_ good too, did you change your hair?” 

Essek blinks, taken aback. Clearly, even after all the time he has spent around them, he still doesn't quite know how to take Jester. Caleb hides his smile behind his hand, pretending to scratch at the stubble on one cheek. Jester is right, though, there is something different about Essek and he can't quite put his finger on it. 

Fjord breaks the silence that follows with a small cough. "Anyway," he says, "you had a suggestion for us?” 

“Ah, yes, I have managed to collect some information on the temple layout. I believe it would be wise to identify a safe area and arrive a few days before the ritual to secure the vicinity and hopefully gain the element of surprise."

Nott's eyes gleam and she grabs at Jester's skirt. "A stakeout!” 

Caleb can see the briefest twitch of a smile at the corner of Essek's lips, a flicker of warmth bubbling in his stomach at the sight. "That seems a good idea," he says, the warmth growing as Essek's gaze falls upon him. There is still a twist of guilt inside him, churning the butterflies in his stomach into an unpleasant cocktail of conflicting desires. He wants to spend more time with Essek, dunamancy lessons or not, but he cannot shake the feeling that they are both just using each other for their own means, and, at least on his part, he doesn't want to do that any more. 

Beau lets out a snort of derision. "Yeah, sure, it _seems_ like a good idea, but what if we go in there, bust our asses getting through the temple and whatever fucking traps it has, and they just come in after, once we've done all the hard work?” Her lips are twisted in a grimace. "Obann did the same at the King's Cage; waited for us to disarm everything and then swooped in. Hell, even that fucking tree didn't give him any trouble. How do we know we won't be weakening ourselves before we gotta fight him...**and** the Laughing Hand...and Yasha..."

****

Her voice trails off, the fire in her eyes dying just a little and Caleb reaches out, awkwardly patting at her elbow. Essek's eyes seem to follow the movement and when he speaks, his usual arrogance seems slightly tempered. 

"Well, for one thing, _I_ will be helping you plan this time." He gives Beau a thin smile as Nott rocks forward on the balls of her feet excitedly. 

"Are you going to fight with us?” Her eyes gleam as she looks up at Essek, fangs bared in a wide grin. 

"Ah, no." Caleb can see Nott's ears droop in disappointment and feels a faint wave of relief wash over him. With the way his mind keeps contradicting itself who knows what a mission alongside Essek would do. Knowing how powerful he is, though, it would be quite a sight to behold. 

"However," Essek continues, drawing Caleb's attention back, "I do have a number of notes on the wards and spell defences around the temple, as well as a map of the area. If anyone would care to accompany me, I can give you them right now."

Fjord nods. "Well, I have all the other maps so—

"Caleb will go," Nott says, interrupting, "won't you, Caleb?” 

"But Nott, I—” 

Fjord is silenced with a swift kick to the shin and a loud hiss of, _"Shut up, Fjord!”_ before Nott flashes Essek another—frankly terrifying—smile. "It's decided then, Caleb will go with you."

Caleb takes a deep breath, fighting against the heat he can feel creeping up his neck. "I guess so," he says with what he hopes is a nonchalant shrug. 

"Okay, cool." Beau's shit-eating grin is so wide that Caleb doesn't dare look in her direction. "We can check out what the other library dudes have for us and you can meet us"—her voice lowers, just enough to be noticeable—“after."

Essek’s eyebrows raise in a delicate arch and he turns, gesturing towards an archway, acting all the while as if he hasn’t heard a word. “This way.”

Caleb dutifully follows, wincing a little as Jester shouts behind him, her voice a bright singsong, “Have fun, you two!” He sighs to himself, hurrying a little to catch up.

Essek leads him a different route than the guard from the other day, but Caleb recognises a few of the doorways, slowly building a mental map of the parts of the Tomes he has seen so far. The sound of their footsteps give a gentle echo against the smooth stone walls and Caleb pauses, realisation slowly dawning. 

Essek's gait is the same as always, a smooth glide across the floor, but as Caleb listens, he can hear the soft sound of his footfall. It is with an odd jolt that he realises exactly what is different about Essek today. 

Normally, he is of a height with Caleb, maybe slightly taller, but today there is a discrepancy, a distinct height difference. It seems that Essek's usual levitation adds a good few inches, though with the way he holds himself it is still hard to tell. Caleb can feel a smile tugging at his lips, a faint warmth flickering in his chest. He isn't entirely sure of Essek's reasons for floating most of the time—though he has some ideas—but it seems rude to ask. Still, the faint lines he had noticed around Essek's eyes the last time they spoke seem to have faded, the air of frustration no longer tangible around him. 

They reach the door to what Caleb now presumes to be Essek's office, the door swinging open as he sketches a quick glyph in the air with his fingers. "Give me a moment," he says, "I have everything you'll need just here." His hands slip out from beneath the folds of his cloak, long, delicate fingers trailing over the spines of the battered, leather-bound books that line the shelves behind his desk. 

Caleb finds himself fixated, wondering how the deep blue-grey of Essek's skin would feel against his own, how those slender fingers would feel running through his hair. He swallows, tongue suddenly feeling too big for his own mouth and clears his throat, needing to break the silence before his imagination gets the better of him. 

"So, ah, you did a lot of this research yourself? I feel we are further in your debt once more." He slides his scarf between his fingers, twisting, needing something to keep his hands occupied.

Essek glances over his shoulder, sliding a bound tome filled to bursting with notes down from the shelf. "This directly impacts the Dynasty," he says, "our people have a legacy of...somewhat _negative_ connections with the Spider Queen." He gives a rueful smile. "I dare say those of us who broke away from her rule to follow the light of the Luxon would be direct targets for any assassin of Lolth. None more so than the Bright Queen herself." One white eyebrow quirks up as Essek catches Caleb's eye. "We'll call this one a freebie, eh?"

Huffing out a small laugh, Caleb watches as Essek pulls yet another sheaf of notes from the shelf before turning.

"This should tell you everything you need to know." He holds out the small stack, the papers that are visible covered in the same elegant handwriting that Caleb recognises from Essek's spellbook. It is obvious that he has put in a lot of work and Caleb feels a flutter in his stomach as he reaches out for the books. 

"Ah, just some light reading then."

Essek's laugh is soft, barely audible, his fingertips sliding over Caleb's knuckles in the gentlest of brushes. There is a spark in the touch, sending a thrill through Caleb that he knows is entirely genuine, lighting him up from the inside like a Fireball. He swallows, not breaking the contact, glancing down and finding Essek’s eyes locked on his own.

He is so fucked. 

It is deliberate, it _has_ to be deliberate. Caleb knows this move. In his younger days he had perfected this move: a brief, innocent touch to indicate interest? It’s practically textbook. Why then is his heart speeding in his chest, his breath catching in his throat?

He could turn it around so easily, throw Essek off his guard by taking his wrist and pulling him in for a kiss. It is the next logical step for this little game.

Caleb really wants to kiss him.

The silence seems to stretch between them and Caleb’s mind races; he needs to do something, say _something_. He doesn’t want to buy into this manipulation game any more.

He _really_ wants to kiss Essek.

He can’t though, doing so would just prove to himself that he hasn’t changed, that he is still the same disgusting creature that Trent molded him to be. He presses his lips tight together, racking his brain for a solution that does not seem to be forthcoming. He needs to _do_ something.

“You are, um, you’re shorter today.”

The words slip out unbidden and there is a flash of surprise in the pale yellow of Essek’s eyes. He pulls his hands back, causing the full stack of books to land in Caleb’s arms and he gasps at the sudden weight.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I just noticed that you weren’t doing the...um, floaty thing.” Caleb blurts the words without thinking, his horrified mind trying valiantly to keep up. “I mean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up, you don’t need to tell me about it, just pretend I haven’t said anything. I’m sorry.”

Essek’s hand is gentle when it lands on Caleb’s elbow, his eyebrows high, lips curved in a faintly amused smile. “You can stop apologising, it’s fine.” He draws his arm back beneath the folds of his robe. “I was just a little taken aback. You are right.” he says with a sigh and Caleb can see a hint of tiredness around his eyes. 

Setting the stack of books on the desk, Caleb stands awkwardly, watching as Essek paces towards the window, the green glow of lamplight shining outside. Essek turns, and for probably the first time, Caleb can see an element of uncertainty on his face. He presses his lips together, pausing for a moment before seeming to come to a decision.

“I have good days and bad days,” he says, his fingertips pressed together in front of him. “Sometimes walking is a little too much, but thankfully, I have my magic to assist me.”

Caleb nods, hesitant. “Is it an injury, or…?”

Essek shakes his head. “Nothing that Clerics can heal, believe me, they have tried.” Essek’s calm smile is brittle. “There is pain, almost always, but no injury. It is...tiring, to say the least. But I try not to let it affect my work too much. I just think myself lucky that I have the ability to take the weight off sometimes.”

Caleb swallows, taking a single step towards Essek, hand reaching out to gently clasp his forearm, squeezing softly. “Thank you for telling me,” he says.

They are face to face, Essek making no move to pull his arm from Caleb’s grasp, not this time. 

It would be so easy just to dip down and kiss him, but something holds Caleb back. That familiar twinge of guilt inside him that makes his stomach twist, even as Essek seems to lean towards him. 

“I have one more thing to apologise for,” Caleb says, his free hand coming up to shove his hair from his face. He can see Essek’s eyes tracking the movement and wets his lips without thinking.

“So many apologies,” Essek murmurs with a soft shake of his head. “What else could you possibly have to be sorry about?”

Caleb breathes deep, steeling himself. “The other day, when I reached out to you. It was for the wrong reasons and I am sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to use your feelings for me against you.”

Essek seems to freeze in place, his eyes widening, something that could possibly be fear flashing across his features. It is gone in an instant, and Caleb can practically feel the wall that falls between them. 

Essek tilts his head, his usual mask of polite indifference sliding easily into place.

“I’m sorry, my what now?” His voice is level and easy, and just as before, he pulls his arm from Caleb’s grip, more forcefully this time. “I think you must be mistaken.”

Caleb can feel a sinking nausea deep in the pit of his stomach. He may have miscalculated. It takes everything he has not to turn away, just as Essek is doing now. Breathing deep, he lets his hand fall, trying to take in the situation. 

There is a connection between them, Caleb knows it, he is sure Essek knows it, too. Is he so convinced that Caleb is trying to play him that he won’t even acknowledge a genuine advance? He narrows his eyes, focused on the very tips of Essek’s ears where a faint bloom of purple seems to be creeping slowly downwards, barely visible against the deep grey of his skin.

Triumph bursts resplendent in Caleb’s chest. He hasn’t missed the mark at all.

Essek is lying.

* * *

He is lying.

Essek can feel his heart pounding in his chest, thankful for the concealing folds of his cloak that hide his shaking hands. This is a weakness he simply cannot afford, of course he has to deny it. He has so much to prove, the last thing he needs is something else that can be used against him. A twinge of pain flares in his hip, easily ignored, but a reminder of his weakness nonetheless. There is a flush of heat in the back of his neck and he can only hope that Caleb hasn't noticed. A quick glance tells Essek that of course he has; his mind is too sharp not to. 

He is lying and Caleb knows it. 

"We should take these back to your friends," Essek says waving his hand towards the notes. He is starting to regret saying he would help with this plan. Thankfully he is well versed with keeping his expression in check. 

When he turns, Caleb's gaze is still fixed on him, calm and blue. His eyebrows are raised, a patient smile on his lips. "Okay," he says, reaching for the books and turning towards the door, voice steady as he continues. "You should know, I'm not trying to trick you."

Essek scoffs, defensive, "I'm sure that's what you were trained to say."

The comment finds its mark and Essek can see a little of the colour drain from Caleb's face, highlighting the faint scatter of freckles across his cheeks. He visibly swallows, fists clenching. 

"Yes, you are right about that. But I am not playing that game any more, and I don't think you are either." Caleb shrugs, jaw set in a grim line. "You can choose to trust me, or not," he meets Essek's eyes, gaze unwavering, "at least I am being honest with myself." He snaps his fingers, bringing his familiar into existence around his shoulders. "I am being honest with you."

The lamplike yellow eyes of the cat seem to bore into Essek, if he didn't know better, he'd swear the creature was judging him. It continues to stare at him, even when Caleb turns away. 

It is a rare thing for someone to challenge Essek and he can feel a flutter of admiration. Caleb could still be lying, for all he knows, but there is something in the timbre of his voice that resonates within Essek’s mind. What would be so bad about admitting his own desires? Is he so used to being untouchable that he shies away from the thought of genuine touch?

Maybe that is the problem. It has been so long since Essek was anything other than the Shadowhand that he is forgetting what it is to want something for himself, rather than for the good of the Dynasty.

Not that Caleb and the Nein won’t be good for the Dynasty—he hopes.

Essek presses his lips together, a wave of aches rippling up through his knees as he follows Caleb, the door to the office slamming shut behind them. 

The silence stretches thin between them as they make their way back to the research hall where the rest of the Nein have, miraculously, done nothing to disrupt the peaceful silence of the Marble Tomes. A glance at Caleb’s face shows Essek that he is just as surprised by this. He catches Essek’s gaze and gives a tired smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

The wrench in Essek’s stomach is almost as painful as that in his hips and he inhales, feeling the bone-deep tiredness starting to creep in, weighing him down.

“_Soooo_, did you get what you needed?” There is no subtlety to Jester’s tone as she wiggles her eyebrows at Caleb. Behind her, Beau sits with her arms folded, smirking. 

Caleb glances over once more. "Almost," he says.

Essek swallows, feeling heat creep the length of his ears once more. Another wave of pain shoots through his knees and he can’t help a small wince; it must be the stress getting to him, making things worse. He starts to trace the symbols that will allow him to lift himself, taking a little of the pressure off—the physical pressure at least.

As the spell kicks in, Essek feels his feet lift from the floor, his body wrapped in a comfortable cushion of gravity. He jolts as something brushes against his ankles and glances down to see a striped tail sliding through the opening in his robes. There is a warm brush of fur, twining around his ankles and Essek looks over to see Caleb, a faint sheen of pink spreading across his cheeks.

“I—ah, I didn’t tell him to do that.”

Essek can’t help but smile, reaching down to scratch Frumpkin between his ears, feeling the Fey magic beneath soft fur, the familiar arcane touch soothing his nerves a little. “It’s quite all right,” he says, meeting Caleb’s eyes. “He is very nice, I like him. I would like to see him more often.”

It is embarrassingly unsubtle, but it is as much as Essek is willing to say right now. If the softening in Caleb’s expression is anything to go by, it is enough.

While the Nein continue their planning, Essek excuses himself, he has so many duties that he cannot let himself fall behind. It isn’t until the day is almost over that he returns to the research hall, finding the Nein packing up to leave.

“Hey, Essek, I thought you were supposed to be helping us out on this one, where’d you go?” Beau is as blunt as ever, though Essek holds his head high, unable to resist the chance to needle her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were the hours I spent pinpointing the location you need to go not enough? Perhaps you would like me to read up on the enchantments protecting the temple? No, wait, I already did that, too.” Essek raises an eyebrow, schooling his face into a mild smile. “Tell me, Beauregard, what else would you have me do?”

Beau’s next words die on her tongue and she drops her gaze to her shoes, mumbling,”No, yeah, that’s fair, you did a lot. I’ll stop being an asshole.”

“I’m sure you will try,” Essek says with a smirk, enjoying the sheepish look on Beau’s face. She is fun to tease, he can see why Caleb likes her.

“Yeah, well, we owe you like a million favours anyway, what’s one more?” Beau shrugs.

Essek pauses for a moment, an idea quickly forming. He can see Caleb hanging back behind the others, his cat held in his arms, still watching Essek with glowing eyes. He starts towards Caleb, an odd surge of nerves blooming inside him, something he hasn’t felt for decades.

Caduceus seems to be herding the rest of the Nein out of the door, waving vaguely behind him with a rumble of, “Don’t hang back too late, Caleb, you’ll miss dinner.”

And then they are alone again.

Essek takes a deep breath, moving just close enough to reach out and stroke under Frumpkin’s chin. He makes for a very good barrier, the rumble of his purrs oddly soothing to the nerves; maybe that is the reason Caleb keeps him around so often.

“I would like to call in a favour,” Essek says, seeing Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise, just a hint of suspicion in the crease of his brows. He carries on regardless, “I would like you to meet with me, outside the Lucid Bastion...to discuss strategy.” 

Caleb’s lips twitch into a teasing smile. “Really?” he says, tilting his head to one side. “Surely if it is for the mission then everyone else should be present, too.”

“That really depends,” Essek says. “Would you _like_ them to join us?”

Their eyes meet in a shared glance and Caleb smiles.

“No.” 

“Then don’t invite them.” Essek strokes over Frumpkin’s back before there is a snap and he is gone, leaving Essek with his hand outstretched. 

“You don’t need a favour to get me to agree, you know,” Caleb says. For the third time, he takes Essek by the arm, his fingers gently squeezing.

This time Essek doesn’t pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decision time, friends! To smut or not to smut? If the rating stays T you'll get 1 more chapter, if we bump the rating up, you'll get 2. Let me know what you think ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

“For the last time, it is not a date, it is a strategy meeting.” Caleb paces circles around the tree atop the Xhorhaus as his friends watch on. The faint breeze that threads through the city ruffles at his hair, making the sun lanterns swing in a slow dance of glowing light. “Any one of you could come along too, if you wanted to.”

“Strategy isn’t really my thing,” Caduceus says with a placid smile, “I’ll pass.” He is digging in the dirt around the tree, giving Reani's flowers room to spread and grow with the coming Spring. 

"Cad, he's full of shit, he doesn't want anyone else to go," Beau says, leaning against the parapet of the tower, her eyebrows raised in Caleb's direction, "because it's a date."

"I—” Caleb presses his lips together, taking a deep breath. He isn't going to argue any more—especially when he knows just as well as Beau does that it _is_ a date. 

"I'm sure you'll have a lovely time no matter what sort of meeting it is." Nott says from atop Jester's shoulders, rearranging the sun lights. Her tone may be kindly, but the wink and hand gesture she shoots in Caleb's direction are pure filth. He buries his face in his hands, groaning to himself. He didn't even mean to tell them about his meeting with Essek, he should have just snuck out. Now Beau won't stop smirking and he has Jester badgering him about outfits. 

"You should definitely let me do your hair!" Jester says, practically bouncing with excitement, jostling Nott and making her screech. "I am gonna make you look _so_ good, Essek will love it."

Caleb gives a smile that feels closer to a grimace. "Really, you are all making far too big a deal over this. We should be thinking about how to get into the temple, how to break whatever enchantment Obann is using to control Yasha."

"Oh, me and Jester have some ideas for that," Caduceus pipes up, "maybe even a strategy." He doesn't offer any other explanation, simply turning back to his plants, attention seemingly caught by a particularly colourful mushroom. There is a moment of silence as the wind continues to whistle through the leaves before Fjord gives a slow nod. 

"O-kay, well, whatever that plan is, I hope it works. I do _not_ want to be on the wrong end of Yasha's sword again."

“We’ll be fine,” Beau says, voice firm, “we’ll get her back.”

Caleb nods as silence falls over his friends, the ache of Yasha’s absence dampening the mood. The air is still cold despite the steady change of the seasons, a faint scatter of clouds just visible in the darkened sky. Caleb sighs, glancing at his friends and snapping Frumpkin into existence to nuzzle them each in turn. He turns to Jester, mentally steeling himself; it will be worth the discomfort to buoy everyone’s spirits, though.

“So,” he says, apprehension filling him, “what do you plan to do with my hair?”

* * *

A few hours later, still disentangling ribbons from his hair, Caleb feels a touch on the edges of his mind and knows instantly that it is Essek. It seems that he is taking a page out of Jester's book. 

_"Caleb, I hope I am catching you at a good time."_ His voice is soft inside Caleb's head, as if Essek were right beside him, whispering in his ear. The thought sends a pleasurable shiver up Caleb's spine. _"I just wanted to confirm our…meeting tomorrow afternoon. Does two work for you?”_

Caleb steeples his fingers, pressing them to his lips, thinking quickly. He is generally a man of few words, but even so, cramming everything he wants to say into twenty-five words or less is still going to be difficult. He takes a breath. 

"Two will be fine, where should we meet? You could come by the house if you like…" he pauses, thinking about his friend's teasing, "...or maybe not." Five words left. Caleb wants to tell Essek that he has been thinking of him, but that seems a little too much. He settles for, "It's good to hear you."

A few moments pass and Caleb settles back on his bed, waiting, a knot of anticipation tight in his stomach. It takes only a minute or so for Essek's voice to come through, the gentle sound of his laughter making the hair on Caleb's neck rise. 

_"I don't use this spell much, but it is useful. There is a small fountain on the South corner of the Bastion, meet me there?”_

Caleb frowns, trying to recall the fountain and coming up short. "I'm sure I can find that," he says, "I, um, I'm looking forward to it. It will be nice to see you outside of official business." He can feel his cheeks heating at the admission, despite the fact Essek isn't even there. Slumping against his pillow, Caleb sighs, doubting that Essek is going to burn another spell slot on him now that their plans are confirmed. Shame. It was nice to hear his voice. 

As if reading his mind, Essek's presence tinges on Caleb's awareness once more. His voice is as smooth as silk and Caleb can practically see the smile that curls on his lips. 

_"The pleasure is all mine. I look forward to seeing you, too. It will be nice to talk without any…interruptions. See you tomorrow…"_ Essek pauses for a moment, confident tone faintly wavering as he finishes, _"Caleb."_

"Yes, tomorrow. Fountain on the South Side. Two o'clock. I will be there," Caleb's lip twitches in a small smile, "my friends will _not_." He lowers his voice, hoping that his replies have the same intimate quality as Essek's, that it sounds like a murmur in his ear. "Until then, Essek."

Smiling to himself, Caleb buries his face in his pillow, breathing deep. It has been a long time since he felt such a spark inside him. There is still an edge of danger to this dalliance and he knows it. Essek could be far more skilled in deception than he ever was. Something in Caleb's gut tells him it is genuine, though. He is willing to take the risk for the chance at something more.

“Oh, Caleb! Caduceus washed your new coat for your date!” 

Jester’s voice cuts through Caleb’s reverie, bringing him back to the Xhorhaus with a jolt. He shoves himself to his feet, already feeling the stir of anticipation in his stomach. With a deep breath, Caleb tries to push the feeling away. Tomorrow will come soon enough.

* * *

The day dawns cool, the same breeze rustling through the stones and spires of the city and the Xhorhaus is a bustle of activity. His friends may say it is because they are planning the mission, but Caleb knows that they are watching him. There is a buzz of excitement in the air—mostly caused by Nott and Jester and their endless suggestions. Every time he passes the War Room, he swears he can hear whispers. The teasing looks on his friend’s faces are easy enough to figure out, too.

Caleb is poring over the map of the temple that Essek gave him when he feels a small hand on his knee and turns to see Nott, her eyes wide.

“Caleb, you’re meeting Essek in a few hours, did you make sure to wash your hair?” She pats at his hand, reassuringly. “I mean, you’re handsome enough without it, but you really should smell nice too. Essek seems fancy, I think he’d appreciate it.”

Heat slowly creeps up Caleb’s cheeks and he presses his fingers to his temples. “I washed this morning, thank you. You don’t need to check up on me, it will be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I can come along.” Her eyes widen dramatically. “What if he _tries_ something?”

Caleb presses his lips together in a tight line, feigning ignorance. “Well,” he says, “I have Counterspell prepared, though I doubt there is anything to worry about.” He sees Nott’s brows furrow as she lowers her voice to a hiss.

“I mean, what if he tries to take advantage of you?” She folds her arms across her chest. “He _is_ very hot.”

Caleb folds his arms in return, meeting Nott’s gaze and letting his lips twist in a wicked smile. He lowers his voice as well, murmuring, “You know, I don’t think I’d mind that.”

Nott pauses for a moment, blinking, before a cackling laugh escapes her lips and she slaps Caleb on the thigh. “Well, all right then. But he does _one_ thing you don’t like and I’ll shoot him in the eye, okay?”

Caleb nods, a wave of affection rushing though him. “That seems fair,” he says, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Nott’s head. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Nott’s grin falters and she twists a strand of her hair between two fingers. “I should probably warn you, too. Jester and Beauregard are planning on following and spying on your da—strategy meeting.” She looks down at her feet. “I may have encouraged them a little.” She winces a little as Caleb stares down at her, his eyebrows raised. “I just wanted to make sure everything would be okay!”

Caleb breathes deep, crouching down to eye level. “Nott, it’s fine. I am sure I can find a way to avoid them.”

“Of course you can,” Nott says. “You’re amazing.” Her expression softens and she takes hold of Caleb’s hand once more. “You really like him, don’t you?”

Caleb coughs, heat spreading up his neck to the very tips of his ears. “_Ja_,” he admits, “I think I do.”

Nott reaches up, wrapping her skinny arms around Caleb’s neck in a hug. “He’d be lucky to have you,” she says before pulling back and straightening her dress, voice returning to a businesslike tone. “Now, Jester wants to see you so she can do your hair.”

The next couple of hours go by in a blur of unwanted pampering and even more unwanted advice and Caleb can feel his nerves start to fray. He is eager for the chance to get out of the house. He has caught Beau and Jester whispering and giggling more than a few times and has already planned a strategy to escape their prying eyes.

Twenty minutes before he is due to meet Essek, Caleb shrugs on his coat and makes his way towards the door. He can see both Beau and Jester watching him from the stairs, Caduceus behind them looking mildly amused. Caleb gives them a wave.

“I’m heading out now.”

“Yeah, sure, have fun.” Beau shrugs, feigning disinterest, though Caleb can see her sharp eyes following his every movement. Jester is a lot more obvious, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands clasped in front of her.

“Tell Essek we said Hi!” she says with a wide grin. She winks at Beau, whispering something under her breath that makes Beau’s lips curve in a smirk.

Caleb nods, making it almost to the door before turning back around. “_Scheiße_, I forgot my scarf,” he mumbles, turning to his friends with a rueful grin. “Okay, once I have that, then I’m leaving.”

Hurrying to his room, Caleb swiftly grabs his chalk, marking out the Rosohna teleportation circle on the floorboards—getting privacy with Essek is more than worth the expense. Ten seconds before he draws the last symbol he calls out, “Oh, Beauregard?”

“Yeah? What is it?” Beau appears in the door, Jester behind her the moment the spell activates and Caleb is surrounded by the familiar blue light. Her mouth drops open in surprise and Caleb grins.

“Nice try,” he says, and then he is gone.

The rush of teleportation is second only to the anticipation rising in Caleb’s belly as he appears in the Lucid Bastion. The guards seem a little confused to see him alone, brows raised as he gives them each a short bow and a “Good afternoon,” before slipping past and heading for the southern exit. He knows he is early, but that is a much better option than to keep Essek waiting.

The fountain is easy enough to find: a shimmering confection of marble that glimmers green in the streetlights. It is carved in intricate, looping vines, twining around a central pillar, atop which sits a familiar dodecahedron. Caleb takes a moment to admire the carving, noting the flowers that decorate each vine: pale roses embedded with some sort of quartz, sparkling as the water trickles down. 

The tinkle of running water is pleasant, soothing the nerves that rise and fall inside Caleb. He pats at his hair, the top section pulled back into a half-bun and braided down one side, trying hard not to dislodge the single blue flower Nott has placed there ‘for luck’. He breathes deep, gaze sweeping up and down the street as he tries to guess which direction Essek will be coming from.

The movement of dark robes on the corner of the street makes Caleb’s stomach flip before immediately settling when a drow he doesn’t recognise ambles past, giving Caleb a look of curiosity as he does. Caleb sighs, leaning back against the fountain. It is only one forty-five, and though he fully expects Essek to be punctual, there is a shard of uncertainty inside him that fills his mind with doubt. What if Essek doesn’t show? What if he is using Caleb after all?

Pressing his lips tight together, Caleb closes his eyes, snapping Frumpkin out to wind around his ankles, the gentle pressure grounding him against the worst of his misgivings.

“He _is_ going to show up, isn’t he?” Caleb asks as Frumpkin leaps onto the edge of the fountain, butting against his hand.

“Mrow.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought you’d say.” Caleb gently scratches at Frumpkin’s ears, heart lightening when the sound of purrs starts to fill the cool afternoon air. “I am going with my gut on this one, let’s hope I am right, _ja_?”

“Mrrp.” Frumpkin sits up, blinking, staring towards the opposite end of the street, lamplike eyes wide and Caleb turns, following his gaze.

Essek stands, a faintly surprised smile on his face that is quickly disguised as he notices Caleb turned in his direction. He is without his usual elaborate mantle, dressed instead in a long, dove-grey tabard with split sleeves, the front covered in some geometric design. As Essek approaches, Caleb can feel butterflies in his stomach. Essek is eye level with him: levitating, and looking so much smaller without the spiked mantle widening his shoulders.

“You’re here early,” Essek says, a note of surprise tinging his voice.

Caleb smiles. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” He pauses. “I also had to get away before my friends tried to follow me.”

Amusement flickers across Essek’s face. “I trust you were successful then?”

“Of course.”

The pale yellow of Essek’s eyes seems to brighten and he looks Caleb over, the pointed tips of his ears turning that increasingly-familiar shade of purple that Caleb has come to anticipate. “You look good,” Essek says, “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

"Thank you." Caleb’s hand instinctively raises, and he pats at his hair, fingers brushing over the flower Nott placed there. He pulls it out between two fingers, offering it forward. “For you.”

Essek falters, seemingly caught completely off guard. He takes the flower from Caleb, gazing down at it, turning it back and forth in his fingers. “I don’t know this flower,” he says, “it’s...lovely.”

“Caduceus has been growing them around our tree,” Caleb says, “I don’t know if you would have them here.” He smiles softly, a brief flash of his mother’s flower garden passing before his eyes, quickly brushed away. “I know them as _Jungfer im Grünen_, but in Common, you would call them ‘Love-in-a-Mist’.” 

“Thank you,” Essek says, voice soft. “I am certain I have the perfect vase for it at home.” He gives a gentle smile and Caleb watches as Essek’s hand traces a familiar spell, delicately placing the flower in a pocket of space before it flashes out of existence. “Now,” he says, gliding around Caleb’s side to place a gentle hand on his elbow, the simple touch sending a thrill up Caleb’s spine, “have you eaten?”

“Not since this morning,” Caleb says, snapping Frumpkin away as Essek leads them towards a tangle of streets that he doesn’t remember visiting before.

“Good, I know a very nice place not too far away,” Essek says. “Shall we go there?”

“Lead the way.”

Essek’s eyes seem to shine at those words and before Caleb knows it, the world is sliding past them in a faint blur, the telltale grey wisps of Dunamantic magic trailing from Essek’s fingers. He can feel the slight nausea that he has felt the other times he has been touched by this spell and chooses instead to focus on the faint pressure of Essek’s fingertips on his elbow.

It definitely helps.

In a few moments, they are standing in front of a squat, two-story shop, the timbers that line the walls a deep purple that verges on black. A number of lanterns hang around a sign which proclaims the place to be ‘The Peppered Pastry’. Light glows in the windows, warm and welcoming as smoke steadily rises from the chimney. The air is filled with the scent of freshly-baked bread that makes Caleb’s mouth water. “This is the place?” he asks Essek, who nods.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, of course, it smells delicious.” Caleb steps forward, reaching the door at the same time as Essek, both their hands fumbling for the handle.

“After you.”

“No, after you, I insist.” 

Their eyes meet and Caleb feels a spark arc through him, making his fingers twitch and his skin tingle. He sees Essek’s eyes widen briefly before they share a smile, a soft chuckle bursting from Essek’s lips. “Let me,” he says, opening the door for Caleb and gesturing him into the shop.

Inside, the shop is cosy, a number of small booths lining the far wall as well as one or two tables with mismatched chairs. A wooden counter sits opposite the door, the shelves behind it lined with what look to be jars of honey, jam and chutney.

A pleasant-faced drow woman stands behind the counter, wiping off her hands on the apron that covers her front. She raises a silver eyebrow at Caleb as he enters, flashing him a quizzical smile. The smile widens as Caleb feels Essek’s presence behind him and the woman calls out an exuberant greeting in what Caleb can only presume to be Undercommon.

Essek replies in the same language, the gentle roll of consonants on his tongue much more pronounced than usual. It makes Caleb shiver and he mentally shakes himself; he does not need to be thinking of what else Essek could do with that tongue, not right now.

Essek and the woman exchange a few more words before she flaps a hand in their direction, gesturing towards the booths. Essek shakes his head, though he is visibly more relaxed here than outside the Bastion. He turns to Caleb.

“Where would you like to sit?”

“Oh, anywhere is fine,” Caleb says, glancing at the drow woman once more. She is visibly looking him up and down, lips twisted in consideration. He follows Essek to a small booth in the corner, out of eyeshot from both the door and the main counter, much to Caleb’s relief. “She seemed pleased to see you,” he says, sliding into the soft seating. “Do you come here often?”

“I grew up not too far from here,” Essek says, sitting down with a grateful sigh. “This place is centuries older than I am.” He glances at Caleb and slides the smallest bit closer. Caleb can feel the lingering tendrils of the Levitation spell curling about his ankles before Essek exhales and the soft cushion of gravity is gone. He gives a slight wince and Caleb reaches over in concern, gently resting his hand on one slim shoulder.

“How are you doing today?” he asks.

The corner of Essek’s lip twitches up and he leans towards the touch, meeting Caleb’s gaze. “I am fine, thank you. It is good to have some time away from work.” There is a tiredness to his eyes, one which doesn’t quite leave, even as he turns to Caleb. “And how has your day been, escaping your friends aside?”

Caleb smiles, gently circling his hand on Essek’s shoulder, a steady warmth rising inside him at the continued touch. Essek makes no move to pull away. “Surprisingly uneventful,” he says. “Nott thinks she can rig some of the temple traps with explosives, but she needs some more equipment in order to make them.”

“I really can’t see Nott and explosives being a good combination,” Essek says with the hint of a smile. He presses his fingertips together on the table in front of him. "She won't hurt anyone with these experiments, will she?” 

“You’d be surprised.” Caleb says, always ready to defend his dearest friend. "She’s something of an alchemical genius.” He runs his teeth over his lower lip, remembering the explosive arrows, when Caduceus fell. He winces. “Although, yes, her track record with explosives could be better.”

“As long as she doesn’t blow up the house.” Essek smiles, raising his hand to sit atop Caleb’s, stopping his movements. “That feels better now, thank you.”

“Oh, of course.” Caleb takes this as his cue to stop and pulls his hand away. He shifts in his seat, edging a little more towards Essek. “You said you grew up near here?”

“Yes, before I started my training and was claimed by Den Thelyss,” Essek turns, pointing vaguely westwards. “Out by the lower walls,” he wrinkles his nose, “it isn’t the nicest of areas. But I used to pass by here almost every day.”

The drow woman arrives at their table with a tray, grinning at Caleb. She places down two steaming mugs. “You are new to Rosohna, yes?” she says in heavily-accented Common. Her smile only grows bigger when Caleb nods. “Good. I will bring you special.” She winks at Essek, saying something in rapid Undercommon and Caleb wonders if it would be inappropriate to start the ritual cast for Comprehend Languages at the table.

“So,” he asks, noting the way Essek’s ears have flushed once more, “what’s the special?”

"It is, ah, rather rustic," Essek says, "not quite the elegance you would expect in Rosohna." He shifts to sit straighter, rolling his shoulders. "But I assure you, you won't find better bread anywhere in the city."

"Oh," Caleb says, "that sounds good. I like bread." He wants to reach out, to run his hands over Essek's shoulders once more. He settles for placing his hand on the table, a few inches from Essek's own. "For the record, I have been in Rosohna for several weeks now, the only thing I expect here is to be surprised."

The smile Essek gives Caleb in return makes his stomach flutter. There is a heat slowly building inside him, burning hotter with every slight touch, every shared glance. Caleb takes a breath, noticing that Essek has somehow managed to slide closer again. 

"Well," Essek says, lips curling around the words in a way that draws Caleb's gaze to the soft curve of his mouth, "may they all be _pleasant_ surprises." His tongue flicks out to wet his lips and Caleb swallows, heat flooding him. The hair at the back of his neck is standing on end, electric anticipation threading through his veins. He meets Essek's eyes and inches a little closer. 

"Here you are, fresh from oven. Enjoy!” 

There is a clatter as a large pot, two bowls and a plate of small rolls are placed on the table and Caleb blinks in surprise. "Oh, thank you," he says, receiving a warm smile from the owner. A glance at Essek shows that the interruption has surprised him just as much, the easy smile he had shared with Caleb morphed into one more polite but no less breathtaking. 

Caleb reaches for the mug that has sat untouched in front of him for the last few minutes, breathing in the steam that still curls from it. It is some sort of tea, astringent and herby, the delicate flavour spreading over Caleb's tongue as he takes a sip. 

"This is good," he says, watching as Essek lifts the lid on the earthenware pot in the centre of the table, ladling out a generous portion into one small bowl and sliding it towards Caleb. 

"The rough translation of this would be 'swamp stew', but I promise, it is better than the name suggests." Essek pours out his own portion and sits back, a look of contentment on his face as he breathes in the rich aroma. "I have not had this in some time."

Caleb looks down at the bowl to see a thick stew of pale yellow-green. He sniffs, uncertain, nostrils immediately filling with a fragrant blend of garlic and spices that makes his mouth water. Taking a spoonful, Caleb glances towards Essek, who seems to be waiting for his opinion.

"It is made with root vegetables and greens," Essek says, taking one of the small rolls and breaking it in half, attention seemingly turning to his own meal. "I won't be offended if you don't like it."

Taking a small mouthful, Caleb's eyes widen in surprise. It is a creamy blend of spice and flavour bursting across his tongue with just enough heat to make his lips tingle. "It is wonderful."

Essek practically beams, sliding the plate of rolls between them. "Try the bread," he says. 

Caleb follows Essek's lead, copying him as he breaks the roll, dipping it into the stew. It is crisp from the oven, still warm, and absolutely stuffed with fiery peppers and some sort of spiced sausage. Caleb can feel his eyes widening as he chews, the flavours mingling in his mouth. The faint creaminess of the broth tempers a little of the pepper's heat without diminishing the flavour. His stomach growls and Caleb realises that this is the first substantial thing he has eaten all day. He had been too filled with nerves to manage more than a mouthful or two at breakfast—much to Caduceus' disapproval. 

"This is all very good," Caleb says, trying to resist the urge to cram as much food as possible into his mouth. Essek's every move is elegant and considered, he doesn't want to seem like some sort of feral human in comparison. 

"The bakery is attached to the back," Essek says, and Caleb takes the opportunity to eat as much as he can whilst still being attentive. "They make the best bread in the city here." Essek swirls his spoon around his bowl a few times, a wistful look crossing his face. "We didn't have much when I was young, so I would always come here in winter.” There is a faint smile on his face as he continues, “I would ask Li’irrea to bring out the biggest, freshest loaf they had and I would tear the ends off and use it as one big glove.” He shrugs. “Then when I got home, we had food.”

Caleb stops, spoon halfway to his mouth, gazing at Essek in wonder, an odd constricting feeling in his chest. 

Essek seems to come back to himself then, noticing Caleb’s attention. That same faint purple flush colours his face and Caleb quickly decides that it is his new favourite colour. 

“I’m sorry,” Essek says, “I realise I must sound like a crazy person.” The smile fades from his lips and Caleb reaches out, placing his hand atop Essek’s own.

“Not at all,” he says, gently squeezing at Essek’s fingers. “I am familiar with that particular...technique.” He pauses a moment, pressing his lips together before gently turning Essek’s hand over and threading their fingers together. “I have used it myself, in fact.” He gives a light squeeze, smiling softly, admiring the look of faint surprise on Essek’s face. “I am glad you brought me here. I like it a lot.”

Essek’s eyes are fixed on their joined hands for a few moments before he seems to recover, lifting Caleb’s hand to his lips and brushing a brief kiss across the rough skin of his knuckles. His lips are soft, and in an instant, Caleb can think of nothing more than feeling them against his own. Heat rises to his cheeks and Essek smirks, obviously enjoying catching Caleb off-guard. “I am glad I brought you here, too.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Though it seems the ‘strategy’ part of this meeting has fallen by the wayside, don’t you think?”

Caleb lets go of Essek’s hand, returning to his stew. “If that is what you want to talk about then I am happy to,” he says with a shrug and a small smile, edging along the booth a little more, bringing he and Essek closer together. The gap has narrowed considerably now. 

"Maybe later," Essek says, turning back to his food. 

They eat in companionable silence and Caleb is keenly aware of the scant few inches between them in the curved seat of the booth. He switches his spoon to the opposite hand, resting his hand on the chair, hovering in the border between Essek's space and his own. He can see Essek give a brief glance before sliding his own hand from the table and placing it next to Caleb's. 

Their fingertips barely brush, though the simple touch still sets a thrill through Caleb's every nerve. He traces over the long lines of Essek's fingers, marvelling at how soft his skin feels. Essek's attention is seemingly on the meal, though Caleb can see the faint smile that curves up his lips. His thumb draws circles on Caleb's palm, running over the calluses and faint scars and Caleb wonders just how rough his skin must feel compared to Essek's own. A sudden heat burns through him at the thought of skin on skin, deep blue-grey against his own sallow tone—made paler in the eternal night of Rosohna. Caleb swallows, his gaze coming to rest on the line of Essek's throat, normally hidden by his mantle. He can see the dip of narrow collar bones and is suddenly unable to think of anything other than how it would feel to run his tongue over them. He's willing to bet that Essek's skin tastes even more tantalising than the food. 

"Are you full already?” Essek asks, noticing Caleb's pause. 

Caleb blinks, feeling a faint burn of embarrassment, as if Essek somehow knows the direction his thoughts have turned. "Ah, no. I am just taking my time. I want to savour it." He pulls his hand back from Essek's, taking another roll. "I will need to bring some of these back for my friends."

"You are a fan of the sausage then?" 

Caleb raises an eyebrow. It is hard to tell by Essek's nonchalant expression if it is a genuine question or an extremely clumsy euphemism. He chooses to believe it is the former. Essek really doesn't seem the type to go in for bad puns. Caleb imagines he would be a little more forthright about his desires. That doesn't mean Caleb can't play that game. 

"The Zemni fields, where I am from, they are famous for their sausages." Caleb meets Essek's eye, a sly smile playing about his lips. "It has been some time, but I am always a fan." 

Essek seems a little puzzled, but he nods. "I can ask Li’irrea for some more," he tilts his head, a faint sparkle in his eyes, "unless you would like to try. Do you think you could get your tongue around some Drow?” 

Caleb's brain short-circuits and he splutters into his tea, coughing. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Undercommon," Essek says, though the wicked smirk on his lips tells Caleb that his previous wording was entirely deliberate. 

_Oh, so we're playing_ that _game now?_

Caleb wets his lips, wiping the last drop of stew from his bowl with one finger and drawing it into his mouth, tongue swiping over his fingertip. He can see Essek's eyes widen slightly, throat bobbing as he swallows. Smiling slowly, Caleb lowers his voice. "I am certain I can wrap my tongue around whatever you care to give me."

They are almost pressed together now, Caleb can feel the brush of Essek's knee against his own as he leans in with a murmur of, "I am sure you are very skilled."

"At languages? Of course." Caleb pulls back, smiling as Li'irrea returns to collect their dishes. He catches Essek's eye and they share a smile, hands brushing together beneath the table once more.

No matter how hard he tries, Caleb's gaze keeps returning to Essek's lips, the steady simmer of heat inside him bubbling up with every shared glance.

Suddenly, Essek stiffens, a line of annoyance appearing between his brows. He pulls his hand from Caleb's to press his fingertips to his temples, rubbing in faint circles. Caleb shifts, bringing them flush together, tentatively slipping his arm around Essek's shoulders.

"Is everything all right? Can I help with something?"

Essek shakes his head wordlessly, turning his gaze to the ceiling. His voice is quiet when he speaks, exasperation ringing in his every word. "Jester," he sighs, and Caleb winces, "it is going well, thank you. I am not even going to dignify that second question with an answer." Essek glances at Caleb and his voice softens, "Tell Nott, I won't."

They sit in silence for a few moments before Essek seems to relax, leaning back against Caleb's arm. "I think she may be done." 

Caleb shoves his hair back from his face with his free hand. "I am so sorry," he says.

"Why?” Essek's hand comes to rest on Caleb's knee, the barest brush of a touch. "I am not surprised, to tell you the truth. It is nice that your friends want to look out for you."

"_Ja_, but I would prefer they not inconvenience you to do so." A flicker of guilt flares to life inside Caleb. "We have already imposed on you far too much."

"I will say that life has become a lot more interesting since you all showed up, it's true." Essek raises his eyebrows at Caleb. "I have never travelled around as much before, normally my work is confined to the Bastion." He sighs. "Sometimes it is hard to balance things around my many other duties, it can be very tiring." Meeting Caleb's eyes, he smiles, squeezing gently at his knee. "But it has its perks, too." 

Caleb can feel his cheeks flushing and gives Essek's shoulder a squeeze in return. "Well I definitely appreciate everything you have done for us. You know I was looking over the map you gave me before I came here today and your notes are nothing short of remarkable."

Essek shrugs, seemingly nonchalant, though Caleb can see the faint gleam of pride in his eyes. "I thought it would help. It is a dangerous mission, sometimes knowing what is ahead can help, especially when it comes to choosing spells."

Caleb nods, enthusiastic. "There is something I have been working on that I think will help a lot if there is a fight to come."

Essek tilts his head in interest, eyes bright. "A new spell? Did you find some new books since we last studied?" 

"Actually," Caleb says, a flutter of self-consciousness bringing the flush back to his cheeks, "I am very close to finalising a spell of my own design." He subconsciously flexes the fingers of his free hand, feeling a faint thrill at the thought of fire. 

Essek's pale eyebrows raise and he nods, looking impressed. "That is…amazing. It takes particular skill to create a spell from nothing. I was definitely right about your arcane prowess." He smiles and Caleb feels his stomach flip. 

"You flatter me, I'm sure that you yourself are more than powerful enough to create your own spells." 

"Well, yes, and I have already taught you one of them." Essek catches Caleb's eye, the smile on his lips soft and secret. 

Caleb smiles in return, Essek's hand is a steady weight on his knee, a solid point of contact and warmth. His voice is low, almost a murmur, "Clearly, you are a very powerful wizard." 

"I am in good company, then."

Caleb isn't sure who moves first, but it is the work of an instant to dip down and press his lips to Essek's. They are softer than he ever imagined, parting in a gentle breath to slide against Caleb's own. He can feel Essek's hand at his jaw, drawing him in closer and tightens his grip on the gentle curve of Essek's shoulder, holding him as close as he can. 

Essek's mouth is warm and he seems to sigh into the kiss, his shoulders relaxing into Caleb's embrace. He presses in, lips moving in a gentle push and pull, his fingers trailing over the faint stubble that lines Caleb's jaw. 

Warmth bursts inside Caleb and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest as Essek gently draws his lower lip into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping over the chapped skin. A noise that is embarrassingly close to a whine rises in his throat, cut off as Essek pulls away. 

As Caleb opens his eyes he can see a faint look of astonishment on Essek's face that quickly slips into a self-satisfied smile.

"Well," he says, tongue slipping out to wet his lips, "that was…"

Caleb nods. "_Ja_, I—" He doesn't finish the sentence. It wasn't enough. He wants more.

Their eyes meet, a crackle of tension flaring to life in the air between them, and then Essek's fingers are in Caleb's hair, tugging him forwards for a kiss with far less finesse. Caleb barely has time to catch a breath before Essek's lips are on his, hotter, wetter, messier. His eyes slip shut as he opens his mouth, buoyed by the heat that burns like a furnace inside him. It has been a long while since Caleb has been kissed like this, but he fully intends to give as good as he gets.

When Caleb's tongue brushes against Essek's, there is a gasp and a low groan before Essek responds with enthusiasm, his tongue curling about Caleb's own, the faint herbal flavour of tea still warm on his breath. 

It feels as if a weight has been lifted from Caleb's shoulders; no more pretense, no more games, he is acting purely on what feels _right_. His arms are wrapped tight around Essek, holding him close enough the feel the slim lines of his body beneath the layers of robes. Essek's fingers comb through Caleb's hair, loosening it from its tie, a few strands falling loose. Caleb couldn't care less. It feels as if every nerve-ending is ablaze with sensation, surging through him like unrestrained arcane energy. He has never felt so powerful, or so fragile. 

In time, the kisses start to slow, the flavour of tea fading from Essek's tongue until Caleb is left with a taste that can only be Essek himself. He strokes down Essek's spine, feeling him shiver, his hand sliding down to cup Caleb's cheek. It is softer now, a gentle caress of lips on lips and finally, with a satisfied sigh, Essek pulls back. 

"I must say," he murmurs, voice low, "if every strategy meeting went like this one, I'd find them a lot more enjoyable."

"Mm," Caleb agrees, "you would not get much done, though, I think."

"Hmm, very true." Essek's eyes are half-lidded, his lips curved in a lazy smile. "I suppose we should keep it between just the two of us, then."

"That may be for the best," Caleb says in mock-seriousness. He catches Essek's eye and smiles, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I am glad you invited me here.”

Essek nods, his usual composure slowly slipping back into place as he folds his hands on the table in front of them. “I wish to ask another favour of you.”

Caleb rolls his eyes. “If it is regarding spending time together, then I think I told you before: you do not need a favour for anything like that.” He raises his hand to brush over Essek’s cheek, leaning in for a soft kiss. “I think I have made my intentions clear,” he says when they part.

Essek nods, reaching out to take Caleb’s hand. There is a vulnerability in his face, his expression more open and honest than Caleb has seen before. “Then you would not be opposed to...meeting me like this again?”

Smiling, Caleb gives Essek’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “Another date, you mean?”

Breathing deep, Essek straightens his shoulders. “If that is what you must call it, yes.” His face is impassive, but Caleb can see the twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. “I will be very busy over the next few days, but I was hoping to see you before you set off for the temple. If you would like to?”

“I’d love to.”

“Well, good.” Essek sits back, and Caleb can see a faint wince of pain as he shifts. 

“Shall I order more tea?” Caleb asks, hoping to distract Essek from his discomfort. “You can tell me what to say.”

Essek’s eyes gleam, his lips twisting into a wicked smile. “Oh yes, this should be interesting.”

The next time Li'irrea comes past, Caleb makes an attempt—under Essek's instruction—at ordering in Undercommon. He utterly butchers the pronunciation, but gets the message across, and seeing Essek laugh is more than worth the effort. Conversation is easy, and the kisses are sweet.

It isn’t until three hours later, after a message from Jester informing them that Nott is getting concerned, that Caleb even considers going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who really want to know, Jester's message to Essek was _"Hey Essek, how's your 'strategy meeting'. Did you guys bone yet? Nott says if you hurt Caleb she's gonna—ew, Nott! I'm not saying that!"_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok folks, the rating has gone up this chapter for a reason, there is a small cut beforehand if you're not into that kind of thing, though <3

Essek twists his fingers in the embroidered edge of his tunic, thankfully hidden beneath his usual cloak and mantle. This meeting has gone on interminably long and they have started talking in circles. He is supposed to be staying alert, watching the assembly for any signs of trouble. All he has been able to discern so far is that the gentleman from Den Amroth desperately wants to go to the bathroom, and the half-orc in the back row has a crush on the guard standing nearest him. He breathes deep, disguising the sigh he so desperately wants to let out, careful to keep his expression pleasantly neutral. 

The more he listens, the more convinced he is that Caleb and his friends are right: the war with the Empire has been manufactured to hide something bigger. He dares not say anything, though. There are so many things to keep track of that even Essek struggles to keep up sometimes. 

It is a bad day today, the ache in his hips a solid band of pressure that constricts around his spine to send lances of pain shooting the length of his legs. He is tired, he is irritable, and loathe as he is to admit it—even to himself—he misses Caleb. 

It has been three days since their…_date_ and they have spoken only once, Essek burning his remaining spell slots for the day to cast Sending after a long day at work. Twenty-five words at a time is nowhere near enough, though. He needs to find some other way to keep in touch, Stones of Farspeech maybe? 

Essek notices the sharp eyes of the Skysybil turned in his direction and snaps his gaze back to the front. He is getting distracted again, and the pain in his hips does nothing to help. 

An hour later, the meeting finally ends and Essek thinks the only person more grateful than him might be the man from Den Amroth, who darts out the door before they are even fully dismissed. He can't help the grateful sigh that escapes him when his Levitation spell lifts him from the chair, the comforting cushion of gravity easing the pressure on his joints. He bows to the Bright Queen, pausing for a moment as she nods towards him. Essek is well aware she mistrusts the Mighty Nein; she probably already believes him compromised by them. 

Thinking over his time with them, with Caleb, the Dunamancy lessons, Essek supposes he might be. 

He is in trouble and he knows it. He has always been so certain of his path forward, so sure. Now, with the war, with the return of the beacon, with the Angel of Irons cult awakening gods only know what all over the continent, he isn't.

Steeling himself, Essek approaches the Bright Queen. Maybe if he is honest he can stave off the worst. 

"Your Majesty." 

"Shadowhand Essek." The Bright Queen looks him over, gaze seeming to pierce through even the heavy layers of his robes. "I have read your latest reports of the Mighty Nein and their plan to ambush the Angel of Irons cult. If they succeed in preventing the resurrection of Jourrael then I shall be very pleased indeed." She gives a thin smile. "Did you have something to discuss with me?"

"Yes, actually," Essek thinks for a second, choosing his words carefully. "I thought it best to inform you that I have become closer to one of their members as of late. The wizard, Caleb Widogast."

"The former scourger?" The queen's voice brightens with interest. "Well, I hope your friendship will bring us some beneficial intel."

Essek presses his lips together, a tight knot forming in his chest; Caleb is so, so much more than his past, even if he can't see it himself. Essek can feel a faint heat creeping at the tips of his ears and continues on regardless. 

"For the sake of full disclosure, this...relationship is of a romantic nature. I simply wished to let you know before rumours of fraternisation started to circulate."

The Bright Queen's expression hardens, her smile brittle and Essek can feel a wave of cold wash over him. She sniffs, disdainful. "How you choose to obtain information is entirely up to you. I can only _trust_ that you have the best interests of the Dynasty at heart."

Her voice is cold steel, cutting through Essek's carefully planned words. He cannot reply, he can only listen.

"Should they betray the Dynasty, you know they will be executed, no matter what relationships they may or may not have forged here."

Turquoise eyes turn on him with the full weight of a hundred lifetimes and Essek is struck with the realisation of just how _young_ he is. His power is a guttering candle compared to the might of the Bright Queen. He swallows, holding his head high, meeting her gaze as best he can.

"I am well aware, thank you. If anything comes up that will be beneficial, I shall be certain to include it in my reports."

"Very well," the Bright Queen turns away, disdain clear in her voice. "I believe this to be an unwise decision, but I will not forbid it."

Essek bristles a little at that. He wasn't asking permission. However he nods, giving another short bow. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall return to my work now."

"Of course."

He returns to the solitude of his office as fast as his spell can carry him, a discomfort that has nothing to do with his pain twisting knots around his stomach. Even the queen thinks he is using Caleb for his own gain, and while, yes, that is something he may have considered in the past, he is too far gone now to pretend his feelings are anything but genuine. Essek breathes deep, circling his desk, not wanting to sit down and put the weight on his aching joints. His eye is caught by a flash of blue, the flower that Caleb gave him sitting on his bookshelf in a small cut-glass vase.

The spiked petals are starting to curl a little at the edges, and Essek’s magic can only do so much to keep it alive. He is used to holding things within time, not reversing the effects of it. The blue remains vibrant, though, not quite the same shade as Caleb's eyes, but close enough to distract Essek's mind from the list of tasks at hand. 

Running his fingertips over his lips, Essek breathes deep. There is a warmth inside him that fights valiantly against the solid ache around his hips. He wonders idly if the warmth of Caleb's hands would be just as soothing. Heat seems to run beneath Caleb's very skin, as if his veins are threaded with fire, as bright and vibrant as his hair. Essek is struck for a moment by the image of that hair spread across his pillow and a shiver ripples through him. 

"This isn't helping," he mutters to himself, grabbing the sealed scrolls of intelligence reports and spreading them across the desk. He needs to work. He needs to push through the aches and pains and prove to the Queen that his relationship with Caleb has no bearing on his usual duties. With a barely held back groan, Essek sits and gets to work. 

He manages to get through almost all of his reports before the ache becomes too much. Exhaustion lines every inch of Essek's body and he presses his fingertips to his forehead, trying to stave off the pounding headache between his eyes. Working like this is no good for his—already tenuous—health, and Essek knows it. He needs a break. 

Checking his schedule, Essek feels a wave of relief: he doesn't need to check in at the Dungeons of Penance for a few hours yet. He presses his fingers together, considering; he could make his way to his rooms and rest, try to regain his energy before his afternoon duties. Or, Essek twists a strip of copper wire between his fingers, pulling a scrap piece of paper towards him to scribble a few short notes. Quickly counting, he smiles, satisfied and traces a few symbols in the air, bringing the wire to his lips as it starts to glow. 

"Caleb, if you are near the Tomes any time soon, I find I have a few hours free. Would you like to meet up?” Essek sits back, waiting, anticipation curling in the pit of his stomach.

A few seconds later, Caleb’s voice comes through sounding faintly surprised. _“Oh!_ Hallo,_ I am quite close, actually. We have been buying materials for Nott’s explosives.”_ There is a brief pause. _“I will be at the South fountain in ten minutes.”_

A smile tugs at Essek's lips and he rises. Caleb's words eliminate the need to spend another spell, he _will_ be there. He only has ten minutes to make himself presentable and get to the south side of the Bastion, though. A quick glance at his reflection in the mirror shows Essek that he looks as tired as he feels and he wrinkles his nose at the sight. He can fix his hair at least, quickly combing it back into place with his fingers. 

Essek fiddles with the fastenings of his mantle, shrugging the weight from his shoulders. He isn't meeting Caleb as the Shadowhand, just as himself. He glances down at his dangling feet with distaste, grabbing another, lighter cloak that falls almost to the ground, covering them. As satisfied as he can be, Essek gives the remaining few reports on his desk a disdainful glance. They can wait, he has better things to occupy his attention—for a couple of hours at least. 

When he reaches the fountain, Essek can see Caleb already there, his back turned as he seems to be attempting to shoo away his friends. Essek approaches slowly, hoping that they will be gone and out of sight by the time he reaches Caleb. 

No such luck. 

Caduceus spots him first, giving a slow wave, which draws Jester's attention. She bounces on the balls of her feet, grabbing Caleb by the arm and spinning him around. 

"Hi Essek! You look really good. We brought Caleb here." Jester grins, pointed teeth gleaming as Essek nods towards her. 

"Hello, Jester, everyone." He catches Caleb's eye and feels a flutter in his stomach. "Caleb." He wants to reach out somehow, to kiss him in greeting, but with the rest of the Mighty Nein around, he holds back. To his credit, Fjord seems to be trying to gently chide them into leaving. 

"Nott, we should get your things back to the house. We only have a few days before we leave and you need to build your bombs. Caduceus, Jester, you had some sort of spells that might help Yasha?”

"Yes we do. Don't worry, Fjord, I just wanted to say hello to Essek, we're not staying." Jester gives another wide smile, turning to Essek with a mock whisper. "Caleb says he'll set us on fire if we do."

A faint flush creeps over Caleb's cheeks and Essek feels another swoop of sensation inside him. "You really _were_ close by," he says. 

"Yeah, he dragged us halfway across the city to get here on time." Beau crosses her arms, one eyebrow raised in Caleb's direction. 

"_You_ followed _me_! I told you I could make my own way here but you insisted." Caleb splutters, glaring at Beauregard, who smirks. 

"Yes, well, we wanted to make sure you got here safe," Nott says, grinning up at Caleb, fangs bared. "I also wanted to check in with Essek here."

Essek blinks in surprise as Nott's yellow eyes narrow and she turns to him, pointing, her voice shrill. "You, hot boy, what are your intentions with Caleb?" 

Essek isn't sure whether to laugh or be afraid and glances at Caleb for some sort of assistance. He finds him with his face in his palm, slowly shaking his head. No help there.

"I thought we might go for a walk," Essek says. He folds his arms beneath his cloak, meeting Nott's eyes with a level gaze and arches one eyebrow. "Does that plan meet with your approval?" Essek doesn't really care if it does, and it shows in the tone of his voice. 

Nott squints up at him and Essek looks back, face impassive. "Okay…" Nott says, "but I've got my eye on you." She jabs two fingers towards Essek and back towards her eyes. "Got it?” 

Raising his eyebrows, Essek gives a faint smile. "Oh yes," he says, trying not to sound _too_ sarcastic. "I understand."

"Okay, Nott, you've said what you wanted, maybe we should leave people alone now?” Fjord gently turns Nott by the shoulders, urging her onwards. He gives Essek an apologetic smile. "Enjoy your walk."

"And a good day to all of you," Essek says, feeling a faint twinge of discomfort as Jester's gaze falls—as it often does—on the hem of his cloak. She is obviously wondering how he can go for a walk when he floats most of the time. He inhales deeply, choosing to turn to Caleb with a smile instead of dwelling on it. "The Perfumed Gardens are nearby if you would like to go there?” 

" _Ja_," Caleb says with a nod, "that sounds nice."

"Okay, well you guys have fun," Beau says with a shrug, turning after Fjord and Nott with a brief wave over one shoulder. "Later, Essek."

“Goodbye, Beauregard.” Essek says, feeling a wave of relief rise up through him as the Mighty Nein depart. He turns his full attention back to Caleb, finally able to greet him properly. “Hello, Caleb,” he says with a small smile.

“Essek, I am sorry, I had hoped they would leave before you got here. I did try to get away, but they—”

Essek leans in, pressing a brief kiss to Caleb’s lips, cutting off the stream of apologies. He can see Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise before a high-pitched squeal of "He kissed him!” echoes in the distance. 

They turn at the same time to see Jester’s head poking around the corner of the street and Caleb runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what to do about them,” he says with a rueful smile.

“They are just part of the package, it seems,” Essek says, reaching out and taking Caleb’s arm. “I don’t mind them too much, though I do prefer to get you alone.”

“Oh really,” Caleb says, wetting his lips, “why would that be?” His eyes gleam almost green under the light of the streetlamps, his knowing smile setting a warmth bubbling in the pit of Essek’s stomach.

Essek drifts a little closer, running his fingers along the inside of Caleb’s arm. “I’m sure you can figure that out,” he says. “I know how smart you are.”

“That may be so, but I have always responded better to practical demonstrations,” Caleb says with a quirk of his eyebrows. He meets Essek’s eyes and they share a smile, the weight of Essek’s conversation with the Bright Queen finally starting to lessen. Squeezing tight on Caleb’s arm, Essek leans in for another brief kiss, lips ghosting across the faint stubble of Caleb’s cheek.

The Perfumed Gardens are only a short walk away, the grey marble archway of the entrance twisted with vines, leaves rustling as they pass through. So much of the plant life in Rosohna is confined to the crops of the Shadow Shire that even Essek forgets how nice it can be just to walk amidst growing things. He shivers slightly in the cool breeze, glancing up to see grey clouds billowing across the sky. There is a faint scent of rain in the air, though the further they go into the gardens, the more it is masked by the honey-sweet smell of pollen and the fresh scent of wet earth and growing things.

Still holding Caleb’s arm, Essek sighs, feeling a little of the stress starting to leave his body. The lamplight is brighter here, closer to yellow than green, rows of pale glowing flowers studded against dark, waxy leaves along the pathway.

“You have had a hard day today, _ja_?” Caleb says, brushing his knuckles over Essek’s fingers, concern written in the lines of his eyes.

“Is it that obvious?” Essek wrinkles his nose, not meeting Caleb’s gaze as he looks him over.

Caleb gives a gentle shake of the head, raising his hand to Essek’s cheek. “No,” he says, “you just seem a little tired. I hope you aren’t overworking yourself.”

“Ha,” Essek says, unable to summon the energy to lie. “I am always tired.” He leans into Caleb’s touch, feeling one arm slip around his waist, drawing him that little bit closer to the warmth of Caleb’s body. Essek breathes deep. It is nice to let down his barriers, even just for a moment.

“You should take a break some time,” Caleb says, his grip tightening, enough for Essek to feel it through his many layers.

He smiles. “I am taking a break right now.”

Caleb returns the smile, leaning in for a kiss that Essek gratefully accepts. 

It is slow and soft, a gentle caress of lips against lips, Caleb’s breath warm in the cool air. Essek sighs, letting his eyes slip shut. There is a heat inside him that has been building since the moment he set eyes on Caleb, and Essek wants nothing more than to let it boil over. He wraps his arms around Caleb’s neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss, sweeping his tongue over the seam of Caleb’s lips. 

Desire flares to life inside Essek as Caleb’s tongue brushes his own, the faint groan that rumbles in Caleb’s chest making his breath catch. They are tightly pressed together, yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. He winds his fingers into Caleb’s hair—left loose today—a spark of pure want shooting through him as Caleb hisses out his name.

Eventually, they part for breath and Essek can feel the smile that spreads across Caleb’s lips, slow and satisfied. “Is this how you spend all your work breaks?” he asks, voice low.

Essek smirks, drawing his teeth over his lower lip and watching how Caleb's gaze follows. “It could be.”

Caleb smiles, pulling away to take Essek by the hand, following the winding path through the gardens. Floating alongside, Essek feels a faint pang of disappointment. The flowers are nice, faintly glowing all around them, but his attention is fixed on Caleb now. He wants to touch, he wants to taste. He wants so much more than an hour alone in a garden can give him.

“I like those ones,” Caleb says, pointing towards a cluster of flowers, creamy, butter-yellow, about the size of a gold piece, “they are the colour of your eyes.”

Essek can feel himself blush, unable to think of an adequate reply. Normally he would preen at the compliment, but something about the way Caleb says it so casually disarms him. He simply squeezes at Caleb’s hand, happy to follow him through the maze of greenery. It is quiet here, though a different kind of silence to the Marble Tomes and the halls that surround Essek’s office. It is calmer, more relaxing. Here, Essek doesn’t need to think, he doesn’t need to dwell on the multitude of tasks that require his attention. He can simply watch the dance of Caleb’s hair shining copper in the lamplight. He can hold his hand, and kiss his lips and just simply _be_.

The first patter of raindrops should really come as no surprise; the clouds have been steadily darkening above them for some time. Essek glances up, happy to see that the gravity of his spell is holding strong, the rain falling around him rather than on him. Caleb is less lucky. He lets go of Essek's hand, pulling his coat around him and winding his scarf up a little higher. His coat and hair steadily darken with every fat drop of rain that falls and Essek moves closer, trying to share the safety of his own personal gravity field. 

"Stay close," he murmurs in Caleb's ear, glancing around for some other form of shelter. There is a small stone arch further up the path, twined with pale white leaves, it isn't much, but it is better than standing in the rain. 

They move slowly, Caleb's arm tight around Essek, trying to keep within the bubble of the Levitation spell. When they reach the arch Caleb laughs, brushing the wet strands on his hair behind his ears and shaking out his coat. 

"Clearly I need to learn that spell."

A small shiver runs through Caleb and Essek reaches out. "Are you cold?” He spreads the folds of his cloak, arms wide in invitation. "You should come here."

Caleb's lips twitch up, one eyebrow raising as he steps forward, sliding his arms around Essek beneath his cloak, closer to his skin than he has ever been before.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this," Caleb says, pressing his face to Essek's neck, the heat of his breath setting the burn of desire alight inside him once more. 

"Please," says Essek, "even I'm not _that_ good." He presses his nose to Caleb's hair, the petrichor scent of fresh rain filling the air. "Not yet, anyway."

Caleb's lips are cool when they find Essek's throat, the warmth of his breath a delicious counterpoint to the chill air with every open-mouthed kiss. He trails up Essek's neck, his hands sliding steadily downwards. Essek gasps into the sensation, tilting his head to allow Caleb more room. Shivers ripple down his spine, each touch sending a burn of sensation through him, pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

Essek runs his hands over the front of Caleb's chest, inwardly cursing the sheer number of layers they both wear. He gasps in a breath as Caleb's lips reach his ear, tongue gently flicking over the lobe before sliding upwards to the very point. Electric sensation shoots through Essek's veins, heat gently simmering inside him. He bites back a groan, fingers gripping tight in the damp fabric of Caleb's coat. 

"_Caleb_."

Essek's back is pressed against the cool stone of the archway and he consciously lowers himself closer to his true height, feeling a thrill at the way he has to lean up to bring his lips and Caleb's together. Wrapping his arms around Caleb’s neck, Essek sighs in contentment as Caleb’s tongue curls against his own, hot and sweet. The air between them is warming, their breath mingling in a whisper of shared space.

Caleb's hands are firm and strong at Essek’s back, barely hesitating as he slides them lower, pulling their hips flush together. He gasps into Essek’s mouth as Essek tangles his fingers in his hair, tugging just a little when Caleb nips at his lower lip. He can feel his pulse speeding, breath catching in his chest with every shift of their bodies together. The pain in Essek’s hips has receded, replaced by a steady tide of _want_ as he can feel his body responding to every touch.

Pulling back, Essek runs his tongue over the shell of Caleb’s ear, delighting in the shiver that it sends through him. “I can have us back at my rooms in less than five minutes,” he murmurs, voice roughened with desire. 

A shudder seems to run through Caleb and he groans, voice muffled as he buries his face in Essek’s shoulder. His grip tightens then releases and Caleb pulls back, looking conflicted. “Maybe not right now?” he says, lips pressed in a tight line. 

He must sense Essek’s disappointment, because he immediately presses a gentle kiss to his jawline, making his way back to his lips, words peppered between kisses. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but you have work to get back to, and I would rather we take our time.” The words send a pleasurable shiver up Essek’s spine, until Caleb continues, “I don’t want you tiring yourself more because of me.”

Essek frowns, pressing his fingers to Caleb’s shoulders, gently pushing him back. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I just mean, it seems like you have had a hard day, you said you were tired. If your health is not the best then it might not be a good idea to—”

Essek holds up a finger, a wave of irritation prickling through him. “That is not up to you,” he says, voice firm. “Let me just make that clear.” He folds his arms, drawing himself back up to Caleb’s eye level. “It is nice to know that you care, but understand, only _I_ get to decide when I can’t do something, no one else.” He glances out at the rainstorm, the worst of which seems to have passed, the faint chill that it has brought starting to creep in, making Essek shiver. He purses his lips, looking to Caleb, who seems taken aback.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, moving as if to take Essek’s hand and stopping midway. “I did not mean to sound like I was dictating what you should do.”

Essek sighs. “It’s fine,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure it was clear.” He takes hold of Caleb’s arm, seeking out the warmth that seems to emanate from him. “I am constantly under scrutiny,” he explains, “I am very young for my people, and to be in such a position of power at such a young age, well,” his nose wrinkles, “there are many who wish to see me fail, who would use any perceived weakness against me. I do not like people to see my...infirmities.”

“You should know that I don’t see any weakness in you,” Caleb says, “but I do care about you. I want to make sure you are taking care of yourself, too.” He pulls Essek close, wrapping him in a warm embrace before pulling back with a slight cough. “I meant what I said though, I would definitely like to spend more...alone time...together.”

Essek feels the corner of his lip twitch up in a smile and brushes a strand of hair back from where it has fallen loose over Caleb’s forehead. “Well, I do have a spell I have been meaning to show you before you leave for the temple. Perhaps I should come over soon?”

Caleb swallows and Essek watches the bob of his throat, his mouth running dry at the sight. “I think that sounds good,” Caleb says. “How soon? Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow evening,” Essek agrees with a nod, feeling a swoop in his stomach at Caleb’s obvious eagerness. He glances back upwards. The rainclouds seem to have disappeared, leaving the sky clear, stars twinkling above them, as bright as the flowers that glow at their feet. He sighs, a faint twinge of pain twisting about his hips. Caleb is right, he _does_ need to take care of himself. He is just too stubborn to admit it most of the time. 

They walk in silence a little while longer, until Essek starts feeling the pressure of time weighing upon him. “I suppose I shall need to think about returning to work soon,” he says, already feeling his mood start to plummet.

“I hope this was at least a pleasant distraction,” Caleb says with a wry smile. He reaches for Essek’s hand, brushing chapped lips over his knuckles.

Essek meets his gaze, an odd constricting feeling deep in his chest. “You are so much more than a distraction,” he says.

Caleb flushes, squeezing tight at Essek’s fingers. “You should know I feel the same way.” His face scrunches, brows drawing tight together. “And Essek, I am sorry again. I did not mean to presume anything, I simply—” 

Essek wraps his arms about Caleb’s neck pressing close enough to hear the beat of his heart, solid and strong. 

“Just...stop talking and kiss me again.”

* * *

Anticipation buoys Essek through his duties the next day, though as always time seems to go far too slowly. Essek has some ideas for potential future spells that could help with such times, but the research for that will have to come later. He has other things on his mind. 

When his last report is filed for the day, Essek rushes to his rooms. They are simple, situated a few floors above his office, looking out upon the scatter of trees that dot the open spaces of the Tomes. Heat burns through Essek, and as he washes he shudders under his own touch. It feels as if every sensation is amplified, his skin prickling with want every time Essek's mind turns to Caleb: his bright hair, his rough lips, his firm hands. Essek swallows, breathing deep in an attempt to regain his composure. It will do him no good to arrive at the Xhorhaus already worked up. 

When he dresses he chooses as few layers as possible. Not that he's expecting anything. He just wants to make it easier if something does happen. At least Essek tells himself that. 

Essek enjoys sex, he always has, but it has been some time since he last took a lover. Longer still since it has been someone he actually cares about. There is a tightness in his chest every time he thinks about Caleb, it is almost painful. In a time of so much uncertainty, maybe it makes sense that Essek has attached himself to part of the most chaotic group of people he has ever known. Still, the more time Essek spends with Caleb—and by extension, the rest of the Mighty Nein—the more his horizons have expanded, and the more uncertain he becomes of the way forward. It is thrilling, and terrifying, and Essek can only hope that no matter what comes, Caleb will still be there. 

He sighs, twisting his hair into its usual coif, twirling a few loose waves around his fingers to fall over his forehead. His pains have lessened today, hopefully chased away by the thrill that runs through Essek's every vein. He grabs for his cloak, taking one last glance at himself before heading out.

It is the work of minutes to make it to the Xhorhaus, Essek burning a little of his power to Shadow Step through the majority of the city. He steels himself as he approaches, unsure what to expect. It is probably too much to ask for he and Caleb to have the place to themselves.

The door clangs in an unholy cacophony as always when Caduceus answers the door, a pleasant smile on his face. “Essek, what brings you here?”

Essek feels a wave of relief, tilting his head up—he had been expecting Jester. “I am here to see Caleb,” he says, “I have some spells to share.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Caduceus gestures Essek into the hall. “He’ll like that.” He follows behind Essek, slightly looming in the dim hallway. “You know, he likes you very much.” His voice is deep and slow, the statement hanging in the still air.

Feeling a faint heat creep up his cheeks, Essek nods. “I know, I like him, too.”

“Good, because I know things are a little uncertain around here.” Caduceus’ words send a shiver up Essek’s spine, as if he knows the doubting thoughts that Essek has been having about his place in things. His smile stays pleasant, though his words have an undercurrent of seriousness. “I’m not going to pretend I know much about the war, or your position in it, but whatever you do decide, if it hurts Caleb, we _will_ have a problem.”

Essek blinks, completely thrown off guard. He’d expected this kind of talk from Nott, or possibly Beauregard, but not Caduceus. He swallows, choosing his words carefully. “I can assure you. The last thing I would want to do is hurt Caleb, or any of you for that matter.” He chances a smile, hoping to convey his sincerity.

Caduceus seems to be studying his face for a moment before he nods. “Okay,” he says, voice suddenly brightening. “Would you like some tea?”

“I— Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

“Great, Caleb is upstairs in the War Room, I’ll take you there.”

“I’ll show him!” Jester’s voice floats through the air, bright and cheerful as she appears from what Essek assumes to be the kitchen, a pastry in hand. “Hi Essek, you should have come earlier, you could have had dinner with us.” She bounces up, looping her arm through Essek’s. “It’s pretty late, will you be ‘sleeping over’?” Her voice deepens on the last two words and she wiggles her eyebrows, a wicked smile on her face.

Essek gives a thin smile, hoping Jester doesn’t notice the blood rushing to the tips of his ears. “I have been very busy, this was the only free time I had.” He loosens the fastening of his cloak. “You know that studying magic takes time, you sat in on our last session, if it means working through the night, so be it.” Essek pulls the cloak from his shoulders, watching Jester’s eyes widen in surprise as she sees his feet on the ground, the shape of his legs clearly visible in loose trousers. “Is there somewhere I can hang this?” he asks, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shock on Jester’s face.

“Let me take that,” Caduceus says from behind them. “I’ll make some tea.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.” Essek turns to Jester with a pleasant smile. “So, the War Room?”

“Oh, yes! It’s just—”

There is a loud bang from one of the nearby rooms that makes the timbers of the house rattle. Both Essek and Jester jolt in surprise, Essek’s hand raising instinctively in a spellcasting motion, a Shield spell on his lips. The sound of rushing footsteps comes from all corners of the house as the rest of the Mighty Nein appear at the bottom of the stairs.

“What the fuck was that?” Beau says as Jester rushes towards a door to Essek’s left. “Nott? You still alive in there?”

Jester throws open the door, Caleb dashing up behind her, worry lining his face. Spirals of grey smoke curl out, followed quickly by Nott, looking slightly singed. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Nott says, “just trying something that didn’t work. Nothing damaged.”

“Are you sure?” Caleb drops to his knees, his hands on Nott’s shoulders as he looks her over.

“I’m fine,” she repeats, catching a glimpse of Essek standing in the hallway. “Oh, Caleb, look, you have a visitor.” She reaches out to straighten the collar of his shirt, brushing a stray hair away. “Go say hello.”

Caleb straightens up, seeming to notice Essek for the first time. He pushes his hair from his face, looking chagrined. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t realise you had arrived.”

Essek takes in the smoke still curling through the hallway, Nott patting at a faintly smouldering hole in her dress. “Is this a bad time?” he asks.

“Nah, this is pretty much a normal night,” Beau says, shrugging. “We’ve figured out almost all our shit for this temple thing, just gotta make sure we all know the plan and don’t, y’know, blow ourselves up beforehand.” She turns her gaze on Nott, spreading her hands wide. “What the fuck, Nott, I thought we had all the explosives we needed?”

“It was an experiment!” Nott says and Fjord shakes his head, turning back towards the stairs as Caduceus heads into the kitchen murmuring something about tea. Essek catches Caleb’s gaze and raises an eyebrow in question.

“Maybe leave the experiments for now?” Caleb says to Nott. “We have spells to study and I would rather not be disturbed by explosions.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll give you plenty of privacy,” Jester says with an exaggerated wink in Caleb’s direction. “We won’t be checking up on you _at all_.”

Caleb groans, running his palm down his face and stepping towards Essek. “We will go to the War Room, if that suits you. I don’t want our tutoring to be interrupted by people who may or may not assume we are doing anything other than studying magic.”

Essek inclines his head in a brief nod, walking alongside Caleb, following his lead upstairs. No one follows, and as they enter the room, Caleb leans in close, whispering in Essek’s ear. “If we convince them we are doing something very boring, then we will be left alone for the rest of the night.”

Essek nods in understanding. He had presumed that was the plan. He draws out his spellbook, feeling a flare of interest as Caleb unlatches his own from the book holster that holds it to his body. Caleb is wearing only his shirt and breeches, seemingly having had the same idea as Essek and reducing the number of layers he wears. He settles at the table, gesturing for Essek to do the same.

“So, what did you have in mind for tonight?”

Essek’s lips curve up in a smirk and he meets Caleb’s gaze, a flash of heat passing between them and making his skin prickle. He leans in, dropping his voice low, “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” Essek can see the faint flush that creeps up Caleb’s neck at the words and circles around behind his chair, trailing his fingers across Caleb’s shoulders. “First though, I have a spell for you.”

Interest burns in Caleb’s eyes, and not just at the promise of magic. He catches Essek’s hand and tugs him downwards, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss which is quickly broken as the sound of voices comes closer and Beau and Fjord enter the room, settling at the other end of the table where Essek can see a number of scrolls, the map of the temple he gave Caleb sitting in the centre. He straightens up, flipping through his spellbook.

Dunamancy is a specialised art, one that Essek has always been told belongs to those who live their life within the Luxon’s light. He would probably be considered a traitor, giving away what he has already. He can see Caleb’s talent, though, he can see the light that burns in his eyes with every new scrap of knowledge. Essek craves that intensity, he wants to feel it turned on him, instead of the magic he can provide. As the back of Caleb’s hand brushes against his own, Essek thinks that just maybe, he will get his wish.

“This is one of my most powerful spells,” he says, pausing at the correct page. “It may be a little advanced for you right now, but I have no doubt of your capabilities. This may well save your life.” Essek lays his spellbook on the table, watching as Caleb scans over it with hunger in his eyes. “Rend Destiny will allow you to alter your own personal timeline. Not by much, but enough to change an action, or a decision. Something that may come in useful in many situations.”

Caleb’s jaw is slack as he gazes over the page, his fingers twitching on the hard wood of the table. “Time,” he says, voice cracking, “it turns back time?”

Essek nods, though Caleb does not see it; his gaze is fixed on the spellbook in front of him. “For six seconds only. It may not seem like much, but it is enough to alter certain outcomes, for better or for worse.”

Caleb’s hands are shaking as he pulls the book towards him and Essek feels a flare of concern. He places a hand on Caleb’s shoulder, squeezing with the barest of pressure.

“This is...I _knew_ it was possible!” Caleb’s voice is a whisper so low that Essek barely hears it, and somehow he doubts that Caleb is talking to him. He tightens his grip, circling his fingers over the tense muscles in Caleb’s shoulder, noting the way that both Beau and Fjord glance in their direction. Caleb grabs Essek’s hand, holding it between both his own, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “Will you show me?”

Essek presses his lips in a tight line, realising too late that he should have prepared the spell. "I, ah, do not have access to the components of that spell right now," he says. "It requires specialised equipment which is quite expensive, though I am certain you can find an artificer in the city who could help you out."

Caleb nods, already pulling the paper and ink he needs to transcribe the spell towards him. He glances up at Essek, still standing, hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," he says. 

Essek smiles, shaking his head. "It is nothing, though it is a complex spell, it may take some time to transcribe."

At that moment, Caduceus enters with a tray of steaming mugs. "Tea's ready."

Essek accepts his gratefully, sitting himself at Caleb's side, watching as he feverishly copies his notes, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration. He can feel a rush of affection blooming inside him and sits back, only the faintest twinge of impatience tickling in the back of his skull. Sipping at his tea, Essek idly listens to the conversation at the other end of the table. He and Caleb will be alone together soon enough. 

In the time it takes Caleb to make his notes, his friends come and go, chatting, refining strategy, bringing more tea. Every so often they will ask Essek for any information he has on the area or to clarify something in the notes he gave them, which Essek is happy to do. He did say he would help them after all. Eventually, though, they start to drift away, retiring for the night. 

It is getting close to midnight and Jester is the only member of the Mighty Nein left awake, sitting across the table from Caleb and Essek, her chin in her hands, watching them. Essek can see that Caleb is almost finished, carefully marking down the last few sigils of the spell in his book. He glances up, seeing Jester and lets out a small sigh. 

"This can't be very interesting to watch," he says, "are you expecting something different from the last time?” 

“Well, y'know, last time you did the chair trick and that was pretty cool. I thought you might be doing something like that again."

Caleb shakes his head, a smile twitching up his lips as Jester yawns. "Nothing like that this time. Just writing. I have three more pages to copy," he lies, "you can watch me do that if you really want."

Essek gives a pleasant smile. "I will be sure to prepare some more exciting spells for next time."

Jester's nose wrinkles and she shoves herself back from the table. "No, if it's just boring writing then I'm going to bed." She frowns at Essek, folding her arms. "You didn't even kiss him this time."

Caleb lets out a burst of laughter behind Essek, who smiles again, closer to a smirk this time. "Oh, I did. You just didn't see." He wiggles his fingers in an exaggerated motion. "Dunamancy has all sorts of useful tricks." He catches Caleb's eye and they share a smile. "Goodnight, Jester," Essek says.

Jester's eyes gleam and she practically skips out of the door, seemingly satisfied with the knowledge that he and Caleb _have_ kissed. "Goodnight! Enjoy your boring spell stuff. Don't stay up too late. The Traveller loves you." 

And with that, they are finally alone.

"She's right, you know," Essek whispers, "it _is_ getting late. Maybe I should leave?" He reaches for his spellbook, sliding it back into the pocket of space it normally occupies.

Caleb's hand wraps around Essek's outstretched wrist, tugging him close. "Don't you dare," he murmurs.

Essek gets to his feet pulling his arm from Caleb’s grip to slowly circle behind his chair. Standing behind him, he presses his hands to Caleb's shoulders, leaning in. "We should wait just a little longer, to make sure everyone has gone to bed." he whispers, sliding his fingers beneath the collar of Caleb's shirt to run them over the steady beat of his pulse.

Caleb's breath catches at the touch and he straightens in his chair, tilting his head to allow Essek more room. His skin is steadily warming beneath Essek's fingers and he reaches up to unfasten the top button of his shirt, his tongue flicking out to wet the chapped skin of his lips. Essek can already feel himself responding, his skin tingling at the mere thought of Caleb’s touch. He moves around a little further, letting his fingers drift along the sharp ridge of Caleb’s collarbone.

“How much longer do you want to wait?” Caleb asks, throat bobbing as he swallows. He takes hold of Essek’s other wrist, drawing him around to face him. 

Essek takes a deep breath, feeling the table at his back and gently pushing himself up to sit atop it, spreading his thighs in invitation. He could tease, he really could, but his body thrums with want, heat already pooling inside him. “Not long,” he murmurs.

Caleb surges up, pushing himself from his chair to crash their lips together in a desperate kiss. His hands wrap around Essek’s back, sliding under the hem of his shirt to slide against his skin, trails of heat following in the wake of every touch. Essek groans around Caleb’s tongue, eyes slipping shut, one hand still pressed tight to the quickening beat of Caleb’s pulse. He wraps his legs about Caleb’s thighs, drawing him as close as he can, returning the kiss with equal fervour, hoping it can convey just how much he _wants_.

Caleb’s hands are firm and rough with calluses, the faint scrape making Essek shiver with every sweep across his bare skin. He tangles his fingers in Caleb’s hair, stroking through it, soft and silky between his fingers. He can feel the raw heat that burns within him, making his breath speed and his heart pound. It feels as if his every nerve has been set ablaze, caught in the fire that is Caleb. A faint whine rises in Essek’s throat as Caleb grinds their hips together. Essek is already hardening, and as Caleb rocks against him, Essek knows that he is in the exact same situation.

Running his hand down the front of Caleb’s shirt, Essek makes short work of the next two buttons, feeling a faint thrill as he pushes his hand inside to find coarse hair covering Caleb’s chest. It sends a jolt of arousal pulsing through him and Essek pulls back, breath catching. He runs his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to regain his composure, glancing up at Caleb beneath lidded eyes.

“Caleb, I would ask a favour of you,” Essek says, a teasing note in his voice.

Rolling his eyes, Caleb pulls back. His lips are kiss-reddened and swollen and Essek wants nothing more than to feel them on his skin. “What’s the favour?” Caleb asks, voice husky as he dips down to kiss a trail up Essek’s neck that makes him shudder.

Essek holds tight to the back of Caleb’s head, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation. He whispers against Caleb’s ear, “Take me to your bed.”

Caleb groans, pulling away completely and sliding his spellbook from the table, quickly fastening it in its holster. He holds out his hand to Essek, who slides from the table as gracefully as possible for a man with an erection.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Caleb says.

* * *

A bubbling cocktail of nerves and anticipation races through Caleb as he cautiously makes his way downstairs, not wanting to wake his friends. Essek's hand is tight in his own, their bodies never more than an inch or two apart. It is taking everything Caleb has not to give into his desire to simply push Essek against the nearest wall and go from there, but he has a perfectly good bed downstairs, if they can only get to it. 

Caleb feels lightheaded, drunk almost, buoyed by the sensations that pulse through him, unrelenting desire the only thing at the forefront of his mind. He almost trips at the bottom of the stairs and is caught by a cushion of gravity, Essek's fingers quickly flicking out in front of him. Turning to thank him, Caleb is caught by the glimmer of Essek’s pale eyes in the dark of the hallway and his words die in his throat. He is beautiful, the white of his hair seeming to glow in the dim light, his skin a midnight sky that Caleb would gladly lose himself in. He pulls Essek close once more, unable to go another second without kissing him again. 

Their lips slide together in a practiced dance of heated breath, Essek's hands coming to rest on Caleb's chest once more. He sighs as Caleb draws his lower lip into his mouth, gently catching it with his teeth, only to swipe his tongue over the same point moments later. 

Caleb breathes deep, catching the scent of Essek's body, heated skin and the barest hint of sweat. He groans, dropping his lips to Essek's throat, needing to taste. 

"Caleb," Essek sighs out, "bedroom?” 

There is an edge to his voice that speaks of desperation, of a desire that is too much to contain. Caleb reluctantly pulls away from the salt-sweet taste of his skin and heads towards his room, pulling Essek along by the arm.

There is a faint scent of smoke still tinging the air of the hallway and Caleb sees Essek’s nose wrinkle. He grabs his cloak from where Caduceus has hung it, shaking it out and giving a surreptitious sniff. A surge of affection swells in Caleb’s chest and he squeezes at Essek’s arm, unable to disguise the smitten smile on his face.

As they pass through the study, Caleb can see Essek eyeing Nott’s lab setup, as well as the massive scorch mark burned into the carpet. They catch each other’s eye and Caleb’s heart leaps when he hears Essek laugh.

“You were right about Nott’s track record with the explosives,” he says, his smile wide and brilliant, warmth shining in his eyes.

“Sadly, yes,” Caleb says, returning Essek’s smile as he reaches for the door to his room. “My room is in here, if you would like to join me.”

Essek’s voice lowers and Caleb can feel a ripple of desire roll down his spine as he murmurs, “I would like nothing more.”

Caleb opens the door, waving Essek inside and locking it behind them. “One moment,” he says, slipping his book holster off and setting it on the table by his bed. He takes Essek’s cloak from him, hanging it on the back of the door, next to his coat. Now that they are here, in his room together, Caleb can feel a flutter of nerves blooming within him. He breathes deep, stepping back towards Essek and wrapping him in his arms, taking a moment just to hold him.

Caleb presses his face to Essek’s neck, murmuring in one pointed ear. “I should tell you, it has been a long while since I last did anything like this. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

Essek takes Caleb’s chin in his hands, leaning up a little to press their foreheads together. “I don’t think anything you could do would disappoint me,” he whispers.

Their next kiss is much slower, though with no less heat and Caleb can feel Essek’s hands returning to the buttons of his shirt, until it is hanging loose about his shoulders. He slides his own hands lower, feeling the line of Essek’s spine through the thin fabric of his shirt before reaching down to squeeze at the slight curve of his ass. Essek draws in a satisfied breath, smiling against Caleb’s lips before pulling away to press his nose into the hollow of Caleb’s throat.

“Well now, you have me here and you’ve locked the door. What now?” Essek’s breath tickles against Caleb’s skin, warm in the cooling night air.

Caleb’s only reply is to take Essek by the hips, turning him around and pressing against the length of his back. He kisses down the length of one ear, bringing his lips to Essek’s throat and sucking gently at his pulse. With one hand, he pushes Essek’s shirt up, fingers twitching over the flat planes of his stomach, steadily trailing upwards to circle one peaked nipple. His other hand, he drops lower, palming the tented front of Essek’s trousers, a jolt of arousal bursting inside Caleb as he traces the line of his erection.

Essek hisses in a breath, arching into the touch, grinding back against Caleb’s own aching cock. His fingers find Caleb’s hair, holding him in place as he grazes his teeth over the curve of Essek’s throat.

“Good,” Essek murmurs, breathless. “More.”

"More what?” asks Caleb, squeezing at the line of Essek’s cock. “Do you want me to keep touching you?” 

Essek turns, his arms looping around Caleb’s neck, a sly smile on his face. “Oh, I want you to do so much more than touch me." He steps backwards, pulling Caleb towards the bed. “Tell me, have you any preferences in how we continue?”

Caleb swallows, shaking his head. “None.” His experiences are limited and better left in the past. All he wants is Essek.

“Good,” Essek practically purrs, “then you’ll have no objection to—pardon the expression—fucking me until I cannot walk straight?” 

Caleb swallows the moan that threatens to escape his throat, his voice somewhat strangled. “I can certainly try.”

Heat rushes through Caleb’s body, far more powerful than any flame he has ever conjured. He tugs Essek’s shirt off, scrambling out of his breeches and smallclothes as he joins him on the bed, hands tangling in the slight waves of his hair as he pulls him in for a deep kiss.

Essek chuckles, shoving off the rest of his own clothes and stretching out alongside Caleb, returning the kiss with equal fervour. They are pressed chest to chest, dark skin against light, tangled in each other in a tight embrace of heated breath and hotter touches. Caleb can feel his heart pounding, the raw sensation of pure want surging through him with every inch they are pressed together. 

Essek’s hands find his chest, fingers trailing through the hair there. His own body is almost completely smooth, save a faint patch of white at the base of his cock and beneath his arms. He kisses over Caleb’s collarbones, downwards, passing over his nipples to the slight curve of his stomach, tongue circling Caleb’s navel. 

“So much hair,” Essek says, sounding almost amazed. He glances up at Caleb, catching his eye. “I love it.” He breathes deep, as if to inhale Caleb’s scent, digging his fingers into the reddish thatch that encircles his cock.

Caleb groans as Essek’s fingers wrap around him, slowly stroking. His gaze doesn’t leave Caleb’s face for a second, watching his every reaction. He can feel Essek’s cock hard against his thigh and groans again, breath catching. 

“Come back up here so I can kiss you.”

Essek quickly complies, sighing around Caleb’s tongue as he kisses him slowly. Taking Essek’s cock in hand, Caleb matches his pace, slow and firm, their hips rocking together in a shared rhythm.

Essek’s cock is long and slender, like the rest of him, foreskin sliding over the tip, which is flushed a deep purple. Caleb circles his thumb around the head and is rewarded with a hitch in Essek’s breath and a low moan as a dribble of precome slides over his skin.

Caleb smiles to himself, confidence growing. He shifts, rolling atop Essek who instantly spreads his legs, letting Caleb settle between them. His eyes are wide, his face open and honest and wanting. Caleb can feel a tightness in his chest and leans down for a soft kiss, his fingers brushing the curve of Essek’s cheek.

“Do you have slick?” Essek asks when they part and Caleb jerks his head towards the bedside table.

“In there, but we don’t need it yet,” he says.

Dipping down, Caleb peppers a trail of kisses down Essek’s jaw and over his throat, breath ghosting against the goosepimples that rise on his dark skin. He takes one nipple into his mouth, gently sucking, circling the little nub with his tongue and feeling Essek arch against him with a moan. Caleb brings his hand to Essek’s other nipple, rolling it beneath his thumb and grinning to himself when Essek swears.

“Caleb, _fuck_.”

Glancing up, Caleb can see Essek, cheeks flushed that wonderful shade of purple, one hand covering his lips to muffle his moans. He runs his hands over the dip of Essek’s hips, scooting down to hover right above his cock, which twitches as Essek meets his gaze.

Caleb wets his lips, leaning down to kiss at the irresistibly soft skin of Essek’s inner thigh and slowly making his way upwards. He can hear the way Essek’s breath catches and his confidence grows. The scent of Essek’s arousal is high in his nostrils and Caleb breathes deep, nuzzling at the juncture of Essek’s thigh, his balls warm against Caleb’s cheek. 

Essek rocks his hips, cock bobbing against the empty air. His fingers clench tight in Caleb’s bedsheets, a faint sheen of sweat starting to rise on his normally perfect skin.

“Caleb, please.” Essek’s voice cracks, his normally aloof demeanor all but gone under the onslaught of Caleb’s lips. 

Caleb can feel his own breath catching, his cock twitching at the sight of Essek spread out beneath him. His heart clenches, pulse speeding when Essek meets his gaze. “Turn over.”

Essek obeys, raising himself onto all fours, spine bowed in a delicate arch. He tenses as Caleb’s hands find his hips, quickly relaxing when Caleb presses a kiss to the small of his back. He follows the ridges of Essek’s spine with his lips, Essek letting out a small _“Oh,”_ of surprise, when he realises Caleb’s plans. He shivers beneath his touch, gasps turning to moans as Caleb spreads his cheeks apart and swipes his tongue over the tight pucker of his hole.

Caleb closes his eyes, pressing as close as he can, circling Essek’s rim with his tongue, barely pressing in and then pulling back, alternating sweeps of his tongue with wet kisses, sucking and lapping, arousal steadily building with every rock of Essek’s hips as he drives back against him.

Reaching between Essek’s spread legs, Caleb takes hold of his cock, squeezing and stroking in time with every sweep of his tongue. It is a wonderful feeling, knowing how badly Essek wants him, and Caleb knows that the feeling is most definitely mutual. He presses inwards with his tongue, feeling Essek’s cock twitch in his hand, another spurt of precome dripping onto the bed. The burn of arousal is too much to ignore and Caleb pulls back, wrapping his arms around Essek and pressing his face to his back.

“I think we might need that slick now,” he murmurs and Essek lets out a shaky sigh.

“Oh, thank the Light, I wasn’t sure I could last much longer.” Essek sits back on his knees, back pressed to Caleb’s chest, flicking the bedside drawer open with a wave of one hand. “Just, go slow,” he says as the bottle presses itself into Caleb’s hand, “I have wanted this too long for it to be over quickly.”

Caleb drops his head to Essek’s shoulder, slicking his fingers and sliding them between Essek’s cheeks, slowly circling. “I will try my best,” he murmurs, “but you must know the effect you have on me. I can’t promise anything.” His fingers slip easily inside and Essek sighs, leaning back against Caleb’s chest, rocking his hips with every circle of Caleb’s fingers. Essek reaches behind him to take hold of Caleb’s cock, squeezing and stroking.

“Have you been imagining this as much as I have?” Essek gasps as Caleb’s fingers brush over the spot he was searching for, his grip tightening on Caleb’s cock enough to make him gasp.

“Why do you think I have lube by my bed?” Caleb whispers. He thrusts into the circle of Essek’s fist, curling his fingers as they both gasp in tandem. “I don't think I have ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

“I’m right here,” Essek says, rocking his hips back, hissing in a breath as the head of Caleb’s cock slides across his entrance. “Take me.”

Caleb groans, fumbling with the bottle to slick his cock, Essek’s hand brushing against his own as he takes hold of Caleb, guiding him inside.

It is hot and slick and tight and Caleb groans as Essek slowly sinks down on his length, a matching moan falling from his own lips. He grabs for Caleb’s hand, threading their fingers together and holding tight.

They stay still for a moment, breathing together. Caleb’s face pressed to Essek’s hair, his free arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close. There is a faint sheen of sweat rising between them and Essek tilts his head back, searching out Caleb’s lips for a soft kiss. He raises himself up, hips moving in a slow circle before he sinks back down, a low moan drawn from his lips.

Caleb breathes deep, slowly thrusting up, trying to match Essek’s movements. There is a pressure building at the base of his cock, coiling inside him like a spring wound too tight. He swallows, bringing the most recent pages of his spellbook to mind in an effort to stave off the inevitable, not wanting to disappoint Essek by finishing too soon. It helps, but not much, especially when Essek clenches around him, a high whine in his throat.

Caleb can feel Essek’s movements speeding, and holds tight on his hips, thrusting up, losing himself in sensation. He drops his lips to Essek’s throat, muffling his moans against heated skin, sucking and lapping at Essek’s neck, thankful that the deep blue-grey of his skin should hide any bruises. He reaches around to take Essek’s dripping cock in his hand, trying to match his strokes with the steady pound of his hips.

There is a tightness coiling inside Caleb, and he can feel his cock twitch with the first spurt of precome. Clearly Essek feels it too, because his movements speed once more, until he is practically bouncing on Caleb’s cock, his hips steadily rocking back to meet Caleb’s every thrust. His every breath is a moan of Caleb’s name, his carefully styled hair in complete disarray as he impales himself over and over again.

“Essek,” Caleb gasps, feeling himself pushing closer and closer to the brink with every thrust, “Essek, I’m close.”

“Good. Yes, oh, _Caleb_—” Essek says, breathless, thrusting into the circle of Caleb’s fist, clenching around him with every shift of his hips. He throws his head back, a loud moan leaving him as Caleb’s cock twitches again, so close to spilling.

Caleb presses his face to Essek’s shoulder, wave after wave of pure heat flooding through him. He squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting up, rhythm starting to falter as the next clench of Essek around him pushes him over the edge. White hot sensation shoots through Caleb and he groans out Essek’s name, thrusting up and into him, his hips jerking as he spills himself inside Essek in several long spurts.

Essek _whines_, thrusting back on Caleb’s cock as he shudders through his orgasm, never letting up the pace of his hand. He squeezes at Essek’s cock, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and feeling a wave of relief wash over him as Essek immediately comes messily in his hand.

They stay pressed tight together for some time, regaining their breath, Caleb holding Essek tight to his chest. He kisses over his neck and shoulders, soothing away the goosepimples that rise on sweaty skin. Essek sighs in contentment, curling into the circle of Caleb’s arms, wincing slightly when he pulls out to drag the blanket over them both.

Caleb breathes deep, settling onto the pillows and feeling Essek’s head come to rest on his chest. He leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Will you stay?” he asks.

Essek smiles, combing his fingers through the hair on Caleb’s chest. “Of course,” he says, “though I dread to think what your friends will say in the morning.”

“Eh, we’ll sneak you out if we have to.” Calebs wraps his arms around Essek, holding him tight. “I know elves don’t sleep the same way humans do. Will you be comfortable here?”

Essek leans up, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Of course I’ll be comfortable,” he says, “I’m with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

_The faint breeze trails through Caleb’s hair, ruffling it from his forehead and sending a shiver down his spine. He stands in the open, his friends at his back, wide open fields spreading golden before them. There is a familiarity to this place, something that brings a bone-deep ache to Caleb's heart. _

_There is a whisper, behind him, barely perceptible on the breeze. "Time to work." The sibilant hiss is familiar, making Caleb's skin crawl and his stomach turn. He can feel something creeping in the darkest corners of his mind, tugging at his senses, dulling them at the edges._

_Shaking his head, Caleb rubs his hand over his eyes, blinking in an attempt to clear the thick fog that seems to be creeping in, clouding his vision. _

_"Didn't you hear, darling? It's time to work." This voice is also familiar, emanating from the slowly spiralling mist and Caleb glances frantically around for the source. He has lost sight of his friends and worry blooms bright in his chest. He is alone._

_"Nott? Beauregard?” Caleb calls, voice growing louder with every name, "Jester? Fjord? Caduceus?" _

_Nothing. _

_That same voice floats through the air and Caleb's stomach flips, recognising it with a sickening familiarity: Astrid. _

_"You don't need them, Bren, darling. You_ know _what we do to traitors."_

_Caleb can feel his heart pounding and he sweeps his hand in front of him, trying to clear the fog that tightens around him in a solid wall of grey. Tendrils stretch towards him, smoke made solid, and Caleb reaches for his component pouch, fully intending to burn away every inch of this fog, along with anyone hiding inside it. _

_The pouch is gone and Caleb swears, drawing his hand up to at least cast some light. _

_His arm stops halfway into the motion, frozen in place, pain spiking through every vein. Caleb struggles, fighting against the unseen bonds, panic building, his breath starting to speed. He opens his mouth to speak and finds it filled with fog, fine tendrils creeping in to wrap around his tongue in a strangling grip, silencing him. _

_"Stop fighting, Bren." The whisper is back, sickeningly close to Caleb's ear. "You can't escape me." _

_Pain lances through Caleb as shards of bright crystal burst from his arms, tearing his skin apart. Warm blood soaks into his sleeves, thick and dripping, flowing between his fingers to steadily patter on the ground. The fog is in Caleb’s ears, threads creeping behind his eyelids, forcing them open and spiralling into his skull, wrapping around his brain. He can see a silhouette coming closer through the fog and struggles harder, cold fear in his stomach turning his veins to ice. He can feel tears in the corners of his eyes as the shadows coalesce into the tall wraith-like figure of Trent Ikithon. _

_He smiles, sickly sweet, reaching out towards Caleb, who can feel the terror in his heart. He needs to scream. If Trent touches him, he _will_ scream. _

_"You can't escape what you are."_

_Two more shadows twist into being behind Trent: Astrid and Eodwulf, their eyes black pits, their mouths each twisted in a crude mockery of a smile. Caleb shakes in a silent sob, his power failing once more as the fog blanks out his mind. _

_He closes his eyes and thinks of fire, the echoed screams of his parents ringing in his ears, smoke high in his nostrils. Warmth bursts to life in his palms and Caleb blinks, ready to lash out the instant Trent comes near._

"Caleb."

_Hands clamp about Caleb's wrists and he snarls, letting the firebolts loose._

"Caleb!"

"_Wa-was? Wo bin ich?_" Caleb mumbles, sitting upright to shake the last of the fog from his mind. 

It is three-thirty in the morning. He is in Rosohna, in the home he shares with his friends, in his own bed, naked, Essek by his side.

Caleb blinks his eyes open to see Essek, worry lining his face, the last glyphs of a Counterspell hanging in the air between them. Essek's eyes are wide, his hands still at Caleb's wrists. He lets go, stroking up Caleb's arms to hold tight on his trembling shoulders. "You were dreaming," Essek says, "are you okay?" 

Caleb gulps in a breath, letting himself slump into Essek's arms, pressing his face to his chest, hoping to draw some of Essek’s warmth into his own bare skin. "It's nothing," he says. "I am a terrible person. My brain likes to remind me of that sometimes."

"That wasn't nothing," Essek murmurs, holding Caleb against him, stroking circles on his back. "Do you often cast spells in your sleep?” 

Caleb shakes his head, shivering as Essek strokes at his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "As for the 'terrible' part. I have yet to see anything that shows that to be true."

“I have done unforgivable things,” Caleb says, a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. He clings tight to Essek, breathing in the scent of his skin, the shivers that run through him slowly starting to lessen.

Essek’s laugh is dark and humourless as he pulls Caleb to lie beside him. “You’re not the only one in this bed who has,” he says. His hands run over Caleb’s shoulders and down his sides in slow, calming sweeps. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Caleb shakes his head, curling into Essek’s embrace. He can feel words bubbling up behind his lips anyway and sighs. “You know enough of my past to know that there are things I cannot forgive myself for.”

Essek kisses across Caleb’s sweaty brow. "I only truly know what I have seen of you so far, and what I can see in front of me now.” He cups Caleb’s cheek in one hand, his eyes glimmering in the dim light. “I am certain that given the fullness of time I will come to know every inch of you, and I doubt even then that I will find any evidence that you are anything but a good person."

Caleb can feel a sob threatening to rise in his throat and presses his lips tight together. “I thought you were supposed to be smart,” he mumbles.

Essek’s breath ghosts over Caleb’s skin as he lets out a soft laugh. “Caleb, when I first saw you, you were dressed as a slave, covered in mud and blood and Light-only-knows what else. Yet when things looked their worst, you stood tall. You did what you needed to save those you cared about.” He kisses over the curve of Caleb’s ear. “I am well aware you only gave up the Beacon to save your own skin, you don’t need to pretend it was your plan all along. Not with me.”

Caleb can feel a jolt in his stomach and brings his head to rest in the crook of Essek’s shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t think I know what my plans are. Beyond saving Yasha, everything is unclear.” A shiver works its way down his spine. “When I was young I knew exactly where I was going, what I was going to be, how I was going to serve my Empire.” He tightens his arms around Essek’s middle, unable to stop the words now that they are flowing. “I did terrible things to follow that goal, I left my mind open to those who only wanted to twist me to their own means.” Caleb’s breath is starting to speed, raw and ragged in his throat. Red-hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and he fights them back. “I was a puppet,” he spits. “It was only after it was too late that my strings were cut.”

Essek’s hand strokes down his cheek again, infinitely gentle and Caleb sighs, closing his eyes. 

"Everything I had known, everything I had believed, all of it false. I had no idea where or what or _who_ I was supposed to be.” He blinks, meeting Essek’s gaze, the corner of his lip twitching up in a feeble attempt at a smile. “I think I am only just figuring that out now."

Essek nods, swallowing. When he speaks it is with the lowest of whispers, “I am experiencing something very similar, myself.”

Caleb props himself up on his elbow, leaning over Essek, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Essek’s gaze is cast downwards and Caleb reaches out, stroking his mussed hair from his forehead. His shoulders tense, his teeth worrying at his lower lip, still faintly swollen from their earlier kisses. Essek breathes deep, seemingly steeling himself.

“I simply find myself wondering if I am on the right side. If indeed there is a right side in this war.”

Caleb nods slowly, running his hand down Essek’s arm, taking hold of his wrist and giving a gentle squeeze. 

"Truly, I can only speak for myself. But my friends and I, we are on the side that helps people. I don't think that falls on one side of the war _or_ the other."

Essek draws in close, his legs tangled with Caleb’s own. His breath is warm on Caleb’s lips, his eyes shining as he murmurs, "It is a difficult place to be."

Caleb can feel his resolve harden and he meets Essek’s gaze, his voice firm, "It is the _only_ place to be."

And then Essek is kissing him again, slow and deep, his hands either side of Caleb’s face. Caleb lets out a sigh, sinking into the sensation. The tight knot of worry in his chest is slowly starting to lessen, soothed away by the caress of Essek’s hands and the warmth of his lips. His hands find Essek’s waist and he holds tight, thumb stroking over the soft skin that dips beneath sharp hipbones.

Essek’s breath is hot and sweet on Caleb’s tongue, his lips gently parting in a sigh. He slides his fingers into Caleb’s hair, making him shiver at the gentle tug. There is still a prickle to Caleb’s skin, a remnant of the nightmare that he has yet to shake off. He holds Essek tighter, kisses him harder, hoping that the present, here and now, is enough to defeat the shadows of the past.

Essek groans around his tongue, his hips briefly rocking against Caleb’s. “Will you be able to sleep again?” he asks when they finally part. “You know I will be right here. My sleep is much lighter than yours.”

Caleb swallows, a flicker of fear blooming inside him. “I may stay awake a little longer. I’m still feeling a bit...rattled.”

Essek raises an eyebrow, pressing a line of kisses down the length of Caleb’s neck, so light it makes him shiver. “I’m sure there is something we can do to help you relax,” he murmurs, one hand trailing through Caleb’s chest hair to stroke over his nipple. “If you are amenable to it, of course.”

Caleb can feel a stir of heat in his gut and smiles, rolling towards Essek. “What did you have in mind?”

Essek’s smile is slow and smug, his fingers circling Caleb’s nipple, rubbing over it as it stiffens and Caleb drags in a breath. “There are so many things I can think of,” he says, bringing his lips to Caleb’s ear and running his tongue around the shell of it. “What do you _want_?”

Caleb can feel his chest tightening, his breath catching in his throat. Essek’s hands are on his chest now, fingers combing through the hair that trails down over his stomach. It has been so long since he has been touched in this way, it is almost overwhelming. He arches up, feeling himself slowly starting to harden once more, something which Essek doesn’t fail to notice. He pulls back with a smirk, slowly kissing down Caleb’s neck until he reaches his chest, taking that peaked nipple in his mouth and sucking gently.

Arousal spikes through Caleb and he groans, reaching out to drag blunt fingernails over the faint muscles of Essek’s shoulder. He thrusts his hips up unconsciously and is immediately pressed back down by a firm hand. Essek nuzzles against his chest, breathing deep, moving his lips to the other nipple with a teasing murmur of, “_Caleb_, tell me what you want.”

“Everything,” Caleb breathes. “Anything.” He doesn’t want to think any more, just feel. The grip of his nightmare is fading, soothed away with every caress of Essek’s hands, his tongue, his lips. Caleb has never thought much about his body, with his narrow shoulders and soft stomach, but Essek touches him with a care that borders on reverence. “I just want to feel you.”

“Mm,” Essek says, a pleased hum sounding in his throat. He shifts around, kissing over Caleb’s stomach, tongue dipping into his navel and making him squirm. “Do you want me in your mouth?” 

Caleb can see Essek’s cock starting to thicken and reaches out, stroking over the length. His mouth fills with saliva at the thought of feeling that weight on his tongue, of swallowing around it, and he lets out a groan. “Y-yeah.”

“Good,” Essek purrs, his own lips only inches from Caleb’s cock, his breath warm as he rubs his nose in the reddish curls of his pubic hair. His fingers reach down, gently rolling at Caleb’s testicles and making him hiss in a breath once more.

Caleb can’t help but arch up as Essek’s tongue encircles the head of his cock, gently sucking. He moans as Caleb thickens in his mouth, swinging his leg over Caleb’s chest to straddle his face. 

Squeezing at Essek’s thighs, Caleb lifts his head from the pillow, seeking out the hot line of his cock and drawing it into his mouth. It bobs heavy on his tongue, the musky scent of sex rising in Caleb’s nostrils. He groans, lapping over the head, swirling his tongue beneath Essek’s foreskin and feeling a rush of heat as Essek swallows him deeper in return.

Sliding his hands up to knead at Essek’s ass, Caleb urges him down, needing to take him as far as he can. He swallows, cock twitching at the hard press of Essek on the flat of his tongue. He can taste him, salt-sweet sweat and the faintest hint of his earlier release, it makes his mouth water. Caleb hollows his cheeks for suction and feels Essek thrust into the circle of his lips, moaning around Caleb’s cock.

The vibration of Essek’s voice ripples through Caleb and his toes curl with every bob of his head. Essek’s mouth is hot and wet, his tongue stroking the length of Caleb’s cock. He must have found the slick somewhere beneath the tangle of blankets because his fingers slide between Caleb’s cheeks, slippery and dripping.

Caleb’s eyes squeeze shut and he gasps around Essek’s cock as those clever fingers circle his entrance, teasingly slow. He spreads his legs wider, rocking into Essek’s mouth, trying to somehow get him to move faster.

Caleb can hear the sound of Essek’s muffled chuckle as he strokes the pads of his fingers over his hole, gently pressing inwards. He whines at the sensation, running his tongue over Essek’s cock, sucking harder in the hopes that it will encourage him. There is a small spurt of wetness on his tongue and Caleb eagerly laps it up, groaning as Essek slides his fingers inside.

Pulling away from Essek’s cock with a pop, Caleb gasps in a breath. He can feel the stretch and the slight burn: something which comes from having only his own fingers for company for so long. He moans as Essek dips his head again, prickles of heat racing through him, inside and out. Caleb grips tight on his sheets with one hand, his other squeezing at Essek’s thigh, trying to guide his cock back towards his mouth before he gets too distracted.

Essek circles his fingers and Caleb swears, spine arching.

“Essek, fuck!”

Pulling his lips from Caleb’s cock, Essek slides another finger inwards. The breath of his laugh is cool on Caleb’s spit-slick skin. “I can do that,” he murmurs. He curls his fingers, sending a prickling pressure up Caleb’s spine. “Would you like that?”

Caleb groans, his cock pulsing at the thought of Essek inside him. He nods, digging his fingers into the meat of Essek’s thigh, enough for his fingernails to leave little crescent marks. “Yes. Please,” he gasps. He wants to lose himself in the sensations that run through him. He wants to forget everything other than himself and Essek, here and now. He wants his mind, his mouth, his body, filled with nothing other than what Essek gives him.

Never stopping the motion of his fingers, Essek shifts back around to kneel between Caleb’s legs. His face seems flushed, though it is hard to tell in the dim green light from the street outside. Caleb sits up and reaches out, his heart hammering in his chest. He _needs_ to kiss Essek again. 

Cupping his face in both hands, Caleb pulls Essek in, fingers running up the length of one long ear and tracing over the point of it. He can hear him hiss in a breath, his fingers curling once more inside Caleb. Moaning against Essek's lips, Caleb kisses him, sloppy and unrefined, a crash of teeth and tongues and saliva. He clenches around his fingers, rocking back onto them with a burning desire to feel: he needs more. 

Essek's pale eyes are wide in the gloom and Caleb realises, stomach fluttering, that with darkvision his every reaction is as clear as day. A jolt of arousal sparks through him as Essek's slick fingers work over his prostate, an expression close to awe on his face. 

"Beautiful," Essek murmurs, pressing in for a kiss that is far gentler than the last. His lips dance over Caleb's own, feather-light, a gentle caress of soft breath. Essek kisses Caleb as if he is something to be treasured and Caleb can feel his heart swelling in his chest with an ache that is almost painful. He loops his arms around Essek's neck, bringing their foreheads together, pausing a moment while they both catch their breath. 

Slipping his fingers out, Essek squeezes at Caleb's thigh in a silent question. Caleb opens his eyes to find Essek's gaze locked on his and nods. "Please," he whispers, "I need you inside me." He brings their lips together once more, pulling Essek down to lie atop him. 

Essek groans out as their cocks slide together, his tongue curling around Caleb's in a delicious slide that has him arching up, grinding against Essek, desperate for friction. He pants, seeing the desire in his Essek's eyes when they part for breath. He kneels between Caleb's spread thighs, tongue sweeping over kiss-swollen lips as he gazes over him with undisguised want. Caleb's heart skips a beat, a moan catching in his throat. He feels open and exposed, vulnerable in all the right ways. There is a swoop in Caleb's stomach. He feels like he is falling. He can only trust that Essek will catch him. 

Lifting his hips, Caleb fumbles around, searching for one of his pillows to prop himself up. He hears a dark chuckle as Essek draws a quick symbol in the air, whispering some arcane words that are faintly familiar. Caleb can feel the tingle of magic on his skin as he finds himself lifted on a cushion of gravity, tilting his hips up at exactly the right angle. "Does this work?" Essek says with a smile.

"_Ja_, that's good." Caleb's skin is prickling and he swears he can feel each mote of air that trails across his body. His every sense is heightened, heart hammering in his chest under the intensity of Essek's half-lidded gaze. 

A soft moan leaves Essek's lips and Caleb props himself up on his elbows, glancing lower. Heat rushes through him at the sight of Essek stroking himself, hips rocking gently into the circle of his fist as he coats his cock with slick, eyes not leaving Caleb's face for a second. Caleb wets his lips and Essek's cock twitches, precome already beading at the tip.

"Careful," Caleb says, a teasing smile on his face, "I don't want you finishing anywhere but inside me." He braces his feet against the mattress, stretching out and settling into the pillow of Essek's magic. "I'm ready when you are."

Essek breathes deep, one hand squeezing tight on Caleb’s thigh, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Give me a moment,” he says. “I want to look at you.”

Caleb’s lip twitches up in amusement and he raises an eyebrow, watching the rise and fall of Essek’s chest. He breathes deep, sliding his hand from Caleb’s thigh to his own cock, guiding it between Caleb’s cheeks, his eyelids fluttering shut.

Caleb’s lips are parted, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Essek nudges against his entrance, gently pressing inwards. His cock is hot and hard, stretching Caleb so much more than his fingers. He shudders in a breath, holding tight on Caleb’s hips, eyes squeezed shut, giving Caleb the feeling that he is trying to hold himself back.

Groaning, Caleb palms at his cock, stroking himself as Essek sinks into him inch by delicious inch. He reaches out, brushing Essek’s hair back from where it falls over his forehead, sighing in contentment. The rest of the world has fallen by the wayside. The last tendrils of his nightmares have been burned away by the heat that flares between them both. The uncertainties of the future and the horror of the past, none of it matters, not here, not now. Caleb arches up as Essek bottoms out, breath leaving him as he wraps his arms around Caleb’s neck. He brings their lips together in a gentle kiss, sighing into Caleb’s mouth before pressing their foreheads together once more.

They stay that way for several moments, breathing together before Caleb rolls his hips in a wordless request for Essek to move. He needs more, he needs to feel the drag of Essek's cock inside him. 

Sliding out almost to the tip, Essek catches Caleb’s eye, reaching for his hand and squeezing tight as he rocks forwards, sheathing himself completely. A low moan catches in the back of Caleb’s throat and he arches up, bringing the hand that isn’t entangled with Essek’s to his back and holding tight.

“Yes, more,” Caleb murmurs, fingers squeezing into the muscles of Essek’s shoulder. He can feel the shudder of his indrawn breath before he moves, finding his rhythm. 

Essek fucks like he kisses, slow and deep, every gentle rock of his hips dragging a moan from Caleb's throat. He holds tight to Caleb's hand, squeezing his fingers in time with every thrust of his hips. His other hand strokes through Caleb's hair, smoothing the sweaty strands back before he dips down to kiss Caleb with a passion he never would have expected when first introduced to 'the Shadowhand' . 

Essek's carefully put together facade has completely fallen away; his hair is a mussed mass of waves, his dark skin shining with sweat. He all but whines as Caleb clenches around him, feeling the pulse of Essek's cock, thick and hard inside him. 

They move together, Caleb circling his hips to meet every thrust. He can feel the pressure building at the base of his cock, prickling up his spine with every slide of Essek's cock against his prostate. Caleb moans, low and loud, remembering too late that Nott's room is directly above his. As Essek gasps out his name, Caleb decides he doesn't care. 

Essek's movements are speeding and he lets go of Caleb's hand, pulling back a moment to squeeze at his thigh, urging it upwards. 

Caleb groans in understanding, shifting, feeling the cushion of Essek's gravity still supporting him exactly where he needs it. He hooks one knee over Essek's shoulder, spreading himself wider, letting Essek deeper. His heart is hammering, white-hot arousal pulsing through his veins, pushed closer and closer to breaking point with every snap of Essek's hips. He arches up as a particularly deep thrust has him digging his nails into Essek's back, clinging to him as he gasps for air. He can feel his peak rapidly approaching and clenches around Essek's length, feeling a burst of triumph as his cock twitches and he swears, voice a ragged groan in Caleb's ear. 

"_Fuck_, Caleb, you are—” His words are cut off by a breathy moan and Caleb burns with excitement as he feels Essek thicken inside him. He's close. 

Reaching down, Caleb jerks himself in time with Essek's thrusts, watching as Essek's gaze drops to his cock, mouth falling open, wide and panting. He can feel his climax rapidly approaching and squeezes around Essek once more.

Essek's eyes are bright as he grips tight enough to bruise on Caleb's thigh and Caleb can feel a burn of want at the thought of being marked. His cock twitches in his hand, the rising waves of his orgasm so close to cresting. He can feel Essek's other hand at his ass, guiding his movements, rolling his hips in a steady pound that pushes Caleb's breath from him in a high, broken whine. 

"Oh, you are beautiful," Essek says, voice tinged with awe. He shifts slightly, scraping his teeth over his lower lip when Caleb lets out a particularly loud groan at the change of angle. "Let me see you," he whispers. 

Caleb moans, spine arching, fisting at his cock under Essek's gaze. He is close, so very close, and when their eyes meet it is too much to bear. Essek looks at him with pure adoration, desire written in every line of his body. Caleb can feel his toes curling as heat floods through him, the tight knot of arousal inside him frayed to breaking point. He bucks his hips up, cock pulsing in his hand, coating his stomach in his release, the tension leaving his body in a shudder of white-hot sensation. 

Essek moans at the sight, breath leaving him in a rush. He lets Caleb's leg slip from his shoulder and leans down, hips working in shallow thrusts as he brings their lips together in a kiss that feels almost desperate. Caleb groans, wringing the last few drops from his cock and wrapping his legs around Essek’s hips. He can feel his movements starting to stutter as he gaps into Caleb’s mouth, arms wrapped around him.

Caleb feels Essek’s cock thicken inside him and clenches tight, drinking in the sound of every moan. He can feel a pulse and a rush of warmth flooding him as Essek shudders out his climax. Caleb's cock gives a final, valiant twitch at the heady sensation of being filled, a dribble of come sliding down the length as he starts to soften. Shivers ripple through Caleb as Essek’s hips rock into him in a few final shaky thrusts before he slumps forwards with a breathy moan. The sweaty waves of his hair are damp against Caleb’s neck as they lie, catching their breath, chests heaving together.

Caleb sighs in contentment, feeling the cushion of gravity beneath him slowly dissipate. He kisses across Essek’s forehead, stroking circles on his back as the last shivers of sensation quiver through him.

Essek groans, propping himself up on his elbows to meet Caleb’s gaze, a slow smile curving up his lips. "Mm, I am going to feel this tomorrow." He presses a gentle kiss to Caleb’s lips and winces as his softening cock slips free. 

Caleb stretches, feeling the faint ache in his hips and the slick slide of Essek’s come between his cheeks. He smiles. "Me, too." His entire body feels loose and pliable, fucked out. He is happy and sated, his skin comfortably numb after the onslaught of sensation, every little kiss that Essek gives him filling him with warmth. 

“Do you think you will be able to sleep again?” Essek asks, combing his fingers through Caleb's hair while he mops them both up with his discarded shirt. He lies back, gently stroking over Caleb's scalp and making him sigh. Pulling the blanket back over them, Essek snuggles in, wrapping Caleb in warmth and comfort.

Nodding, Caleb can already feel his eyelids beginning to droop, Essek’s gentle ministrations lulling him closer to sleep with every passing second. He holds him close, breathing in the scent of his skin, body relaxing into Essek’s arms.

This time, there are no nightmares.

* * *

Caleb comes to consciousness to find—to his surprise—Essek still sleeping, or whatever the elf equivalent is. He has always heard it described as a trance-like state, though to Caleb’s eyes, Essek simply looks asleep. The unstyled waves of his hair spill loose over Caleb’s pillow, his face soft and smooth, no trace of worry or stress or pain. Caleb can feel a tight pressure in his chest and settles back, watching the rise and fall of Essek’s breath. There is a lightness inside him, and though he knows that their mission to the temple is fast approaching, Caleb can feel a blooming confidence in the thought of things to come. He reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from Essek’s forehead, warmth blossoming to life inside him as pale white lashes flutter and Essek blinks up at him, a soft, sleepy smile sliding across his lips.

“Well good morning,” Essek murmurs, taking hold of Caleb’s outstretched hand and threading their fingers together. “I didn’t hear you wake up.”

"I only woke a few moments ago," Caleb says. "Did you sleep well?” 

“Very, and you? No more nightmares?” 

“None." Caleb smiles. "I think I was too exhausted once we were done." He catches Essek's eye and sees a self-satisfied smirk curve up his lips. He runs his fingers over Caleb's stubble, curling against his side. 

"Well you certainly made good on your promise," Essek says, hissing in a breath. "I will definitely not be walking straight any time soon."

Caleb watches as Essek stretches out with a wince, a flash of concern flaring in his chest. "You are, um, sore today?"

"Well...yes, but in a different way from usual. At least I asked for this." Essek smirks, voice lowering to a murmur, his breath ghosting over Caleb's ear. "This ache is deeper, much more satisfying." His arms slide around Caleb's waist as he pulls him in for another slow, deep kiss that has Caleb's body heating all over again.

"I don't think I can manage a third time," he says when they finally part, breathless. 

"Aha, no. Nor I," Essek says, rolling over to pull his discarded clothes from the floor with a wave of one hand. "I'm afraid you've quite worn me out." A satisfied smile plays about his lips and Caleb feels a rush of affection bubbling up inside his chest. He wraps Essek in his arms, kissing up his ear to the very tip. 

"Do you have work to do today?" 

"I have work to do every day," Essek says with a sigh, pulling his shirt over his head. His movements are slow and jerky and Caleb gets the sense that Essek's pain is worse than he wants to admit. He slides from the bed, watching as Essek's gaze roves over his body, his lips twitching up in interest. "Believe me, if I could stay here all day, I would."

"Can I at least get you breakfast?" Caleb says, offering his hand to help Essek from the bed and receiving a grateful smile in return. 

"As nice as it sounds, and as much as I like them, I don't think I have the energy to deal with your friends this morning." Essek braces himself on Caleb's arm, nose wrinkling in annoyance when he immediately stumbles. He groans, waving his fingers, the prickle of magic making Caleb's hair stand on end. 

"Is there anything I can help with?” Caleb asks, watching as, within moments, Essek is fully dressed, still leaning against his—completely naked—chest. 

Essek shakes his head, pulling Caleb down in a brief kiss before murmuring a few more words. His feet lift from the ground, bringing him up to eye level. "Shame," Essek says, "I like being shorter than you." His cloak floats from the door to wrap about his shoulders, falling to the ground and hiding his feet. 

Caleb chuckles, scrambling into what clothes he can find that he didn't use to clean them up the night before. "We leave for the temple tomorrow. Will I see you before then?” 

"I will be here to see you off," Essek says, drifting closer, as if he is reluctant to leave too much space between them. Caleb wraps him in his arms, simply breathing in the scent of Essek's skin. 

"With the help you have given us, I think we have a good chance of getting Yasha back. Again, I don't know how to thank you."

Essek raises a suggestive eyebrow and a breath of laughter bursts from Caleb's lips. He feels lighter than he has in a long while, hope burning bright in his chest. "_Ja_, okay, there is that."

There are a few muffled thumps from upstairs and Essek sighs. "I suppose I should leave before everyone wakes up." He leans in for another kiss. "Much as I want to stay."

Caleb nods in understanding; he would love nothing more than a little more time together, but his friends can be very full on at the best of times, he can only imagine what they would be like if they found out Essek spent the night. "Let me at least walk you out," he says.

Essek nods. "I hope you don't mind if I take one further precaution." He whispers an incantation that Caleb immediately recognises, and becomes invisible. "Now even if your friends see you, they'll just think you're talking to yourself," Essek says, amusement clear in his voice. 

"It wouldn't be the first time," Caleb says with a shrug. He opens the door to the study and feels Essek's hand at his elbow, floating alongside him. 

The hallway is empty when Caleb steps out, the singed smell of Nott's experiments the night before still lingering. Curls of steam coil out from the entrance to the tower and Caleb freezes as the door opens and Caduceus wanders out, a placid smile on his face and a teacup in his hand. He heads towards the kitchen, ears flicking up as he does. Tilting his head, Caduceus frowns slightly, nostrils twitching before he sighs, seemingly in understanding. 

Glancing over, Caduceus turns in Caleb's direction with a bright smile. "Morning Caleb. Mornin' Essek," he says, "you're visiting early. Can I get you some breakfast?” 

There is a momentary pause before Essek lets out a deep sigh of exasperation and pops back into visibility by Caleb’s side, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yes, all right, fine then." 

Caleb can see a faint flush of purple at the tips of his ears and reaches out, squeezing gently at Essek’s hand. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he says.

Essek raises his eyebrows, looking entirely unconvinced, but follows Caleb into the kitchen anyway, settling himself on one of the low benches that line the empty table. Caduceus is humming to himself at the stovetop, busy cooking what looks like some kind of pancake. Caleb lowers himself to sit by Essek at the table, feeling the faint ache in his hips that can only come from being thoroughly fucked. He frowns slightly at the discomfort, but doesn’t say anything, if Essek isn’t going to complain then he certainly won’t. 

The sound of creaking floorboards and muffled conversation breaks through the air as the rest of the Mighty Nein wake to start their day, the Xhorhaus steadily filling with life. Caleb can feel Essek tense slightly beside him and slides just a little closer, so their thighs touch.

“Hey, morning, Cad, do you know if—” Beauregard sweeps into the kitchen with a handful of papers and freezes, mouth breaking into a wide grin when she sees Essek. She takes a step out of the door and turns towards the stairs, shouting, “Hey, Fjord! You owe me five gold!”

Giving Caleb a thumbs up, Beau grabs an apple and perches herself at the end of the table, returning to her notes. Fjord appears a few moments later, nodding towards both Essek and Caleb before sheepishly sliding a few coins into Beau’s outstretched hand.

Caduceus bustles back and forth, bringing a few plates of pancakes, followed by some sort of mushroom omelette. He sets a mug down by Caleb, whose nostrils are immediately filled with a faint floral scent as curls of steam rise in spirals from it.

“That blend has a little bit of willow-bark in it, it’s good for aches,” Caduceus says, “I noticed you seemed a little sore when you sat down earlier.”

At the other end of the table, Beau seems to choke on her own tea, Fjord slapping her on the back as she coughs. Caleb can feel heat bubbling up inside him, blood rushing to his face and he drops his gaze to the table with a mumble of, “Thank you.”

Beside him, Essek sits a little straighter, glaring in Beau’s direction before speaking up, “Caduceus, may I have some of that blend as well, please? I am also a little sore today.” 

This time, Fjord chokes. 

Caduceus, meanwhile, seems unperturbed, simply smiling and nodding. “Oh, sure. I have plenty.”

“Plenty of what? What are we having?” Jester bounces into the room, bright and awake, Nott trailing a little behind her, still blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Oh, Hi, Essek! Are you going to eat those pancakes? Caduceus doesn't make them that often. They’re _really_ good.”

Essek blinks, seemingly taken aback by the lack of intrusive questions and Caleb smiles to himself, feeling a rush of affection for his friends. He catches Nott’s eye and they share a glance, Nott wiggling her eyebrows before clambering onto the bench opposite him.

“So I know I said I was done with the experiments, but I was thinking—”

“No, Nott.” Fjord’s voice is firm and he rolls his eyes, scooting up to let Caduceus join the rest of the table. “We’ll do a final run through of the plan later, let’s just get breakfast first, okay?”

“Okay, fine.”

* * *

Breakfast passes quickly, and Essek finds himself relaxing far more than he’d thought he would. There are a few knowing glances, but for the most part, Caleb’s friends—his friends too now, he supposes—just go about their normal morning routine. It is with a great reluctance that he finds himself needing to leave.

When Essek rises from the table, Caleb following behind, there is a chorus of goodbyes, but for the most part, everyone seems too absorbed in their food to give he and Caleb much notice. They say their goodbyes at the door with lingering kisses, until Essek runs the risk of being late.

“I’ll see you tomorrow before you set off,” he promises Caleb, taking one last kiss before he absolutely has to leave. 

When the door clicks shut, Essek waits a few moments before—exactly as expected—there is a chorus of excited screams. He smiles to himself, feeling a twinge of pity for Caleb and the inevitable barrage of questions his friends must be subjecting him to.

And then it is time to work, time to go about his duties, all the while pretending that he knows exactly where his loyalties lie. Essek’s mind is a tumult, soothed only by his thoughts of Caleb and their time spent together. He drifts, both literally and figuratively, through his day, concerns steadily growing at the thought of the Mighty Nein’s next mission.

Essek is far too young to have heard anything more than the myths of Lolth’s tyranny, legends passed down, lifetime to lifetime. He does, however, know, that any assassin that bears the Spider Queen’s mark is not going to be easy to take down. He can only hope against hope, that the plan Caleb and his friends have come up with, is going to work. The last time they encountered this group, Essek was far less invested, though from the first instant Caleb gripped his arm, he should have known that something was changing. There is a desperate ache in Essek’s chest that has nothing to do with the pain he lives with every day. This is something far deeper, inextricably linked to Caleb, and Essek feels a flutter of fear in letting himself reach this point.

It feels almost inevitable, though, Caleb is a fire, a source of warmth and comfort that Essek has barely felt in his adult life. He is a bright and brilliant as the flames that he conjures forth, bringing that same light to everything he touches—none more so than Essek. He has fallen so far, so deep, yet he knows he will happily keep falling. As long as there is that chance for warmth at the end.

It is with a mixed sense of hope and fear that Essek returns to the Xhorhaus the next afternoon, a few assistants from his Den accompanying him, bringing the horses that were supposedly a gift.

“I’m afraid they had no information I could use,” he tells Fjord. “You might as well use them for your mission. The faster you get to the temple, the faster you can return with your friend safe and sound, yes?”

Essek accompanies the group to the outer walls, the growing fear inside him making his hands tremble beneath his cloak. He hopes his voice sounds a little more confident as he says his farewells.

“Now take care, my friends,” he says, “of yourselves and of each other. I will see you when you return.”

Pulling Caleb to one side, Essek breathes deep. “Caleb, I have a favour to ask of you.” He traces the symbols for Fortune’s Favour, drawing as much power as he can spare, and pouring it into a kiss that he hopes conveys everything he doesn’t yet have the words for. The spell should last far longer now. Long enough for the Nein to complete their mission.

“What’s the favour?” Caleb asks when they finally part, and Essek feels an ache deep inside him. He presses his forehead to Caleb’s, one hand covering the steady beat of his heart.

“Come back safe,” Essek whispers.

Caleb gives a soft smile, pulling away to mount up. “Well,” he says, “since it’s a favour, I’ll make sure I do.”

Hope flares inside Essek, a mote of possibility that maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out all right.

The threads of fate are tenuous at the best of time, so easily snapped and rewoven. However, with the right magic—and the right wizard—Essek might just be able to turn fortune in his favour. Not for the Dynasty, or the Empire, not even for himself: simply for what is right.

Essek feels his heart twist as the silhouettes of the horses disappear from sight. There is so much more he could have said, so much more still to figure out. For now at least, Caleb has promised to return safely and Essek holds that promise in his heart.

He trusts him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading, all your kudos and comments are so very much appreciated and have made working on this story an absolute joy <3 Much love to you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you wanna chat, I hang out on [tumblr](http://moonwalkingcrab.tumblr.com) and now also [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MoonwalkingCrab).


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